Westeros Lost
by TeaForRabbits
Summary: A prince flees his sham of a life to find a world who needs his help and cunning...a girl seeks refuge with a god and helps him adjust to this new world, while fleeing the lions and dogs of her past. Will they survive the game of thrones, or will their only memory remain in the songs? Longer, better summary inside. Rated M for for lots of violence, swearing, and a little romance
1. Unfamiliar Stars and the Stench of Death

This story is written M for violence, a slight amount of sexuality, and swearing. This won't get MA, but I won't stinge on the romance. Without further ado, here is the full summary!

This story takes place after _Thor_ but before _The Avengers _in _A Clash of Kings/Storm of Swords_. Loki never fell from the Bifrost, but was taken and tortured by his "family" for his part in the Frost Giant War and Thor's banishment. Loki decides not to put up with this and flees to a world that needs his cleverness and mischief. Meanwhile, Sansa Stark is a captive in King's Landing, and is saved by a terrifying stranger nearly dead from his wounds but still with the strength of a god. The god takes pity on Sansa and keeps her close for information...and they both decide that they might have a place in the Game of Thrones...

* * *

Chapter 1: Unfamiliar Stars and the Stench of Death

* * *

Loki sat quietly in his room in Asgard. In some ways, this was a miracle; in others, it was pure torture. Every part of his body ached, and there was nothing more comforting than the feel of his own featherbed with its clean sheets and thick furs. His room held all of his personal treasures: his books, wardrobe, and trinkets had been left intact. However, what was once Loki's personal haven was now a prison. This room would never be a sanctuary again, just as Loki's mind would never be free of insane taint.

For the past few months, Loki had been living a life of pure torture. For his part in letting the Frost Giants into Asgard and setting the Destroyer on that small Earth town, Loki had been severely punished. Odin and Thor had decreed that Loki be sent to the dungeons for his atonement, and upon his return, he would be forced to apologize before the Asgardian court in exchange for forgiveness. Loki had to smile weakly at the thought of apologizing: did his onetime family think that he was _sorry_ for the death and despair he had caused? That in itself was more disgusting than all the tortures that he had been put through. For those past few months, Loki had been locked in a world of mental and physical agony. Be it blunt instruments, refined torture tools, or the sadistic whims of his guards, Loki's days were a torment. His nights brought no relief either. Spells were interwoven around his cell so he would experience a plethora of hallucinations and nightmares instead of rejuvenating sleep. One night, Loki thought he was on fire and he couldn't escape the burning flames. The licking tendrils of head scorched his skin and transformed him into a screaming creature that lived in endless pain. Another night, a swarm of vicious black beetles with metallic pincers feasted on the tender flesh of his stomach. Loki had been forced to watch in horror as glistening entrails were dragged from his body and devoured with methodic, painful precision. Those visions had been the worst; sometimes, when Loki was pacing his room in the palace of Asgard, spots of color on the walls turned into those beetles, or the sheets on his bed would encase him in a cocoon of flames. Even though he had left the torture chambers, Loki still couldn't escape his nightmare.

It would be even worse when he would be made to be paraded around the Asgardian throne room, begging his father's forgiveness and try to get in their good graces again. Oh yes, Loki would have to dress up in his finest silks and adopt an air of humble humiliation. It would be terrible to whimper at the base of the throne, mewling for his parent's forgiveness while the entire court laughed. Of course, his "parents" were not _very_ cruel, as they would allow Loki to be welcomed back into the royal family...so long as he played the sympathetic part. Loki knew he could not do it. Why would he humiliate himself just to return to a life of shadows and second-class love? No, he wasn't the scheming prince who played pranks for his own amusement anymore; now, Loki was truly a devil who was born of ice and insanity.

That was why Loki was staying in his room. Odin made a very stupid decision when he locked his adopted son in the room filled with the most spell books in the kingdom. In return for Odin's stupidity, Loki was going to escape. For too long Loki had lingered in the shadows, given only spare bits of kindness now and again. It was time for Loki to destroy all who had wronged him and time to find a kingdom of his own to rule.

Loki suddenly doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach. He had tried to eat a light supper before, but only had managed keep down a bowl of broth. His time in the dungeons had weakened him thoroughly, inside and out. Odin had decreed that only Loki's most dangerous injuries be healed, which meant that Loki was still covered in oozing, festering wounds. Yet, Loki was still going to escape from Asgard. He had maybe thought to stay and beg his parents for a private audience, but Thor's behavior outside the dungeons a few days ago had convinced him otherwise...

_ Loki was dragged out of the cells with none-too-gentle care; he groaned with every footfall and winced at the weakest candlelight. His stomach was a hollow balloon of air that only growled with cramps, not hunger, and his tongue was as rough as stone in his sandpaper mouth. His whole body was a mixture of lacerations, bruises, and shredded flesh that refused to heal. Before the party had made it halfway up the stairs, Loki collapsed, unable to walk anymore. He was then dragged by his bleeding arms while he struggled to remain conscious. When the party of Loki and his guards finally made it out of the dungeons, he could not keep his eyes open, as the brilliance of the Asgardian daylight nearly blinded him. He didn't even open his eyes when he heard the voices._

_ "Well, isn't it the mighty King of Asgard! King Loki, why don't you cast a spell on me for disobeying you?" Fandral's mocking words sent brays of laughter through the Warrior's Three and the gathered crowds. "Thor, you were right: your brother couldn't stand a little stay in the cells! I bet he cried when he couldn't wash his hair!" Thor hooted along with the rest of his friends. Loki didn't even care anymore when the taunts and venom stalked him all the way to his chambers._

Now, Loki's heart was too poisoned to beg for forgiveness, or to feel any regret for his actions. He settled back into a chair in the center of his room and began to weave his magic for his escape. Thank the gods that his father hadn't told the guards to search his room, as the most potent bits of magic in all of Asgard were in this room. Even though Loki was in general a very neat person, he had too many valuable trinkets to leave lying in plain sight, so most of his magical items were scattered in odd places around the room. Loki's spellweaving voice never faltered as he walked across the room and searched in one of his dresser drawers, until he found the Mind Gem hidden beneath a favourite pair of socks. The Mind Gem was one of six gems that belonged to the Infinity Gauntlet; Odin had two gems hidden in Asgard's treasure vault, and everyone assumed that the other four were scattered across the heavens, never to be reunited with their ornament. No one guessed that Loki had the most powerful gem hidden in his room with his smallclothes. The Mind Gem had the power to conjure powerful defense spells, transform the object it was bound to, and control minds. It had the power to enslave the senses, confuse them, destroy them. Oh, the possibilities were endless! Loki had spent a lot of time considering what sort of weapon to bind the Mind Gem to. He considered setting it on the pommel of a sword, but he never had a gift for slashy weaponry. Loki finally settled on a spear; his brief time as King of Asgard had given him a flair for spears, as he had enjoyed playing with his father's most prized spear, _Gungir_. Now, Loki finished binding the Mind Gem to a golden spear of his own make: it had a long, cruel blade for stabbing, a lightweight design, and a clever spot for the Mind Gem to rest, just under the curve on the blade. Loki didn't even consider naming the spear, as he wasn't very sentimental towards his weapons. Otherwise, Loki was unarmed except for a few daggers hidden in the layers of his clothing and two vials of poison. Finally, Loki donned one of his lesser favourite clothing sets; it was all black and brown metal and rough leather, with only a little of his favourite black-and-green cloth. Loki hadn't favourited it before because it was simply too _savage_ for his tastes. Maybe it wasn't anymore. Loki grabbed his spear and, using the immense stores of his magic, teleported himself away to worlds unknown.

* * *

It wasn't a very good day to be in King's Landing. The city's commoners were starving, as the Tyrells had closed the roseroad during the war, so very little food was getting into the city. The nobles in the Red Keep were enjoying honeyed boar, spiced crab, and potted eel every night, or so it was said in the starving streets. Worse yet, the nobles had decided to prance through the streets to say goodbye to Princess Myrcella, who was being shipped off to gods-know-where. The commonfolk didn't really care; all they saw was a party of well-fed royalty flaunting their jewels and fat tummies while the rest of the city went hungry. One dying woman had the gall to rush up to the King and beg for help. The Queen Regent had made it worse by opening her ugly mouth to spew simpering words and give the woman a coin. The dying wench had started to scream "_brotherfucker!"_, and all hell broke loose from there. One courageous idiot had thrown a cow pie at the king, which caused him to demand that the man be found and killed. Before anyone could blink, the commoners were storming the gold cloaks and Lannister men-at-arms to screech for bread and blood. The nobility scattered like rats before a malnourished cat. The gold cloaks slashed at anyone who got too close, while the milk-armored Kingsguard rushed the King and his mother back to the Red Keep with nobility scurrying behind them. A few unfortunate royals were caught between the crowds and the safety of the Red Keep. The hungry crowds tore the High Septon apart, while anointed knights that the commoners had cheered for only months ago in tourneys were smashed to shreds on the pavement. One young noble girl was almost swallowed up by the crowds, and she might have made it back to the Red Keep, until a few men had eyed her clean hair, fine silks, and impeccable beauty. The poor girl, a captive like rest of the commoners behind the city walls, could only flee into the nearest alley to avoid those men, who had a gleam of a different kind of hunger in their eyes.

* * *

Loki had hoped to land in a grassy field or a deserted village, as he did not particularly want to meet any people now. Sadly, Loki didn't have any luck in this world either, as he landed in a busy, rioting city. Most of the people around him were commoners: they wore stained leathers and roughspun, and they all had a weak, famished look about them. That didn't stop them from rioting, however. A few golden-cloaked peacekeepers were rushing the mobs, beating and murdering anyone who came too close. Loki spied a knight in blue-and-white plate being overwhelmed by the mob. The knight was forced to his knees and the people around him took turns smashing his skull on the pavement with rocks. Loki turned away; he didn't have a lot of pity for the man, as he had starved copiously during his imprisonment in Asgard. However, even if he had wanted to help, Loki was still very weak from all the magic he had used and he did not know if he could handle a mob. _I don't think I'll stay to figure out if I can._

Leaving the riots, Loki decided to head down the nearest alley, in an attempt to find a little peace and quiet. Perhaps the little side street would lead to an inn, where he could requisition some and a little information about this place. Loki tried to make a few guesses about the place by looking around. The alley didn't offer much but an overpowering stench of shit and blood. After a few twists and turns, the alley emptied into some sort of...well, he didn't know what the purpose of these rooms was. Hay crunched under his feet, but woven baskets, barrels, and the like were stacked in untidy heaps in a corner. _Storage rooms, perhaps?_ That wasn't what caught Loki's attention, however. He heard girlish screams of terror and laughter from a side room up ahead. Following the noise, Loki stalked forward carefully.

In front of him, a girl was about to be raped. Loki could see why the rapists had picked her: she was a beautiful young girl, with long, auburn hair, delicate blue eyes, and a face that could inspire a singer. From her very clean hair and intricately embroidered silks, the girl must be nobility. Loki felt a rage growing inside of him. The girl couldn't be more than twelve or thirteen! Feeling protective of the girl, Loki took careful stock of the situation. Four men had cornered the girl and had pinned her down-how was the girl supposed to fight back? The girl was screaming and fighting for all her worth, begging to be let go. That didn't matter to the four street urchins. One man snarled into her ear, causing the girl to shriek with terror while the others laughed. Of course, the men never got to have their fun with their prize, for Loki made his presence known.

Loki stood in the entrance to the storage room, still smoking slightly from his teleportation. He knew what the men were seeing: a gaunt, dark face with unkempt black hair and baggy eyes from lack of sleep and a sadistic grin. They must have noticed his mad eyes as well, along with his glowing sceptre and fine battle raiment. Loki eyed them coldly.

"Oy, what do you want?" The man who had hissed into the girl's ear had the nerve to speak to Loki in such a brusque manner. "We found her, and we'll have her; go find yourself some other highborn bitch!" The girl squirmed in their arms, still sobbing and pleading.

Loki had been waiting a long time to let off some steam, and these four disgusting pieces of trash were certainly deserving of death. Stepping forward, he unleashed a torrent of blue death from his spear that swept over the girl but knocked the four men off their feet. Loki danced closer and sliced the man who had spoke from head to heart, releasing a spray of guts and blood. Pivoting on one foot, Loki pinned another man into the wall with his spear. By now, the other two men had realized what danger they were in, and had abandoned the girl in an attempt to flee. One man took a spear to the joint of shoulder and neck, while the other was vaporized with a short burst of deathly blue magic.

After that slaughter, Loki felt much better. He straightened his clothes calmly and wiped his sceptre clean on one of the man's tunics. The girl huddled against a wall, covered in blood and too shocked to speak. . Loki remembered she was there and looked at her. "I'm sorry you had to see that, but are you all right?" The girl nodded, too terrified for words. "What's your name?"

The girl didn't have time to reply, for another voice was threading through the maze of alleys and streets. "Lady Sansa! Lady Sansa, are you there?"

Loki was curious to see what status this girl had in this world. Anyway, even though he was reluctant to leave the girl, Loki felt she might be better off with a violent, half-mad demigod. He disappeared a flash of blue and waited quietly in the corner, anxious to see how this played out.

A knight in blood-spattered white armor and cloak appeared from around the bend. He was large with a cruel face and even crueler eyes. He looked over the blood-spattered room and girl without much interest. He motioned to the girl called Sansa. "Get up," he snarled. "His Grace is wanting his betrothed back, and you've gone and scratched up the dress he gave you. He won't be happy about that."

The knight's words seemed to rouse Sansa from her terror. "No, I won't, I won't go back to Joffrey! He's evil and cruel and I hate him!" She looked around the room in frantic pleading for Loki. "Please good ser, come back, reveal yourself! Don't let Ser Meryn take me back to Joffrey!" The knight hauled her roughly to her feet, and before Loki could reappear, dealt her a stinging slap that wrenched her head back and split her lip.

Loki's anger was roused even further by the knight's cruelty, and he reappeared before their astonished eyes. "What do you mean by hitting my lady?" He asked coldly. "She doesn't want to go back to your king, and who are you to deny her wishes? She is now the lady of a god." The knight only paused for a moment before shoving the girl aside and charging at Loki. Loki shot a bolt of lightning out of his spear, and set Trant on fire. The left the man to die in that blood-stained room. Pulling an unresisting Sansa to her feet, he wrapped his cloak around her shoulders, and deciding that talk could be saved for another time, led her through the alleys, beneath a sky slowly filling with unfamiliar stars.

* * *

Okay, so I'm going to try and post a new chapter each week, but don't be alarmed if it takes two weeks; I'm a busy student and the grades matter most!

Some chapters will have multiple POVs, but there won't be too many.

The next chapter will have Tyrion's headaches during the Quest for Sansa, Tobho Mott being stripped of his home, and Thor _finally_ realizing that Loki had fled the coop a week after the fact. Thanks for reviewing and reading, and don't be shy to leave a comment!

And now, a preview of the next chapter!

* * *

The young gold cloak wandered through a maze of alleys that veered off the main streets of King's Landing. The boy had only begun his training in the barracks and quarters of the City Watch, but had been called to protect the king and help put down the riots spreading throughout the city. The boy, whose name was Mollard, was fearfully looking at every shadow and startling at the scurrying of a mouse. Mollard was one of a hundred gold cloaks who had been sent to search for Ser Meryn Trant and Lady Sansa Stark. Unfortunately, Commander Bywater would have been better served sending a streetwise starvling with a promise of food in his belly for all the work that Mollard was accomplishing. Mollard had only joined the City Watch for food; his mother was a baker who had died during one of the food riots in the weeks past, and Mollard hadn't been able to get his hands on baking supplies to continue her business. So here he was, a timid child of four-and-ten who could hardly hold a spear, sent to search in the dead of night in an angry city for two missing nobility. Life couldn't get any worse for the poor boy. Or so he thought.

Turning a corner, Mollard smelled charred meat. His hungry self quickly forgot about his mission and went in search of a nice meal. However, Mollard found an entirely different type of meat.

Ser Meryn Trant's body, easily recognizable in his scaled armor of the Kingsguard, lay smoking in the middle of a puddle of blood. He was a burnt shell of a man; his white wool cloak was burnt to a crisp and his once-splendid armor was charred and melted from the heat. Three bodies surrounded him and even though they had been dead for a few hours, their wounds were deep enough that blood still trickled on the floor. Mollard walked over to Trant's body and bent to examine him, when suddenly the knight's hand shot up and gripped the boy's wrist.

Mollard shrieked and jumped back. Trant forced some whispy words through his burnt lips. Mollard had to bend over him and strain to hear. "A god..." Trant gasped, "a god in...golden-etched armor with a..a..g-g-golden spear...took Sansa...killed me...tell the king, tell the king!" Trant fell back and with a wheezing breath, died there in that alley.

Mollard fled back to the Red Keep, carrying a scrap of charred white cloth and the mark of death in his eyes.


	2. The Wolf and The Snake

A Wolf and A Snake

"I don't care if you have to go naked, just go out there and find Sansa Stark!" Tyrion rubbed his temples and tried to ignore the headache building up between his eyes. It was not easy, since people were running about shrieking with terror for loved ones. Joffrey was screeching for executions, and Cersei was tongue-lashing the Kingsguard. The nobility of King's Landing had just fled back to the Red Keep after avoiding a starving, rioting mob. Several prominent commanders and ladies had gone missing in the ensuing chaos, including Sansa Stark, Lollys Stokeworth, and Ser Aron Santagar. However, Sansa was one of the most valuable hostages that Tyrion had control over, and it would mean his brother Jaime's head if Robb Stark found out that Sansa had gone missing.

Tyrion ignored the stabbing needles of pain in his head and marched up to the Kingsguard. "I don't care if you go out in your white cloaks or if you dress up like starving beggars, but get out there and find Sansa Stark!"

Ser Meryn Trant snorted. "I take orders from the king, not you, Imp."

Tyrion glared at Joffrey. If the boy would not order Ser Meryn to find Sansa, Tyrion would have to send his clansmen, and Tyrion wasn't sure who the crowds would hate more: the savages or the white cloaks. Thankfully, Cersei had grasped how important it was that Sansa be found and was staring her son down with a cold expectancy. Joffrey looked a little taken back by the intensity of his mother's gaze, and sighed. "I suppose Ser Meryn should go find my betrothed. Ser Meryn, find her and bring her back, at any cost!" True to his word, Ser Meryn obeyed his king, leaving the Red Keep.

Tyrion had nothing better to do but wait. If Ser Meryn came back with Sansa, everything would be fine. Sansa would be ordered to keep silent about her ordeal and would be given a few new dresses and jewels as way of apology. If she wasn't found...well, Tyrion didn't want to think about what that would mean for Jaime.

The day gradually waned into dusk with nary a word from Trant. Tyrion and Cersei actually found comfort in each other, as they both feared for their brother. Eventually, as the night was upon them, they sent a few dozen gold cloaks to find Ser Meryn and Sansa, realizing that was what they should have done in the first place. After sending that order, the two settled down to a little supper even though their appetites were spoiled by fear.

Cersei poked listlessly at her stew. "It's rather funny, isn't it? How only Jaime can bring us together. Otherwise, we'd be arguing instead of eating."

Tyrion took a sip of wine before answering. "He's the only person we both like, I think. Oh, and one more thing." Tyrion set down his glass and stared at Cersei unflinchingly. "I want you and Joffrey to treat Sansa kindly after this. I'm loathe to admit, but she's probably been raped by now. She won't need Joffrey's cruelty or your sarcastic compliments after what she's been through."

Cersei nodded. "I think it will be easy to force Joffrey to give her up for Margaery Tyrell after this. My son won't want some girl with a commoner's bastard in her belly."

"I thought you said that Sansa was still a child?"

"She is, but she's close to becoming a woman, and she's been weeping even more than usual lately, so it's very likely that she will flower soon. It's rare for a girl to have a baby before her first blood, but if she is bedded right before she flowers, it's not unheard of."

Tyrion frowned. "How do you think Robb Stark will react if his sister was gotten pregnant from a mob rape?"

They were jarred from that horrible thought by a servant stumbling into the room breathlessly. "A gold cloak has come back from the search. He has news of Ser Meryn and Lady Sansa."

Tyrion and Cersei fled the room without another thought.

* * *

The gold cloak that was brought before the small council and the king was red-faced and terrified. He had a faint smell of smoke and blood about him. When Tyrion and Cersei arrived, he began blurting out his story.

"SerMerynisdeadLadySansawasta kenbyagodohgodsohgodsohgodss melledlikeburntmeatdeadbodie s..."

Tyrion had Ser Boros Blount thoroughly shake the boy until his teeth rattled. "Seven hells, boy, calm down! Tell us more slowly: did you say Ser Meryn was dead?"

Blinking back tears, the boy began his sorry tale. "I was walking around, looking for any sign of Ser Meryn an' Lady Sansa along the path of the riot, and I smelt lots of cooking meat. I was confused-who has that much meat to spare? I followed the smell through an alley, an' there was a little room at the end, a small storage room if you like." The boy shivered. "The room was filled with lots of bodies, maybe four, not including Ser Meryn. They had all been hacked up with some kind of blade weapon. The whole place was splattered with blood like a butcher's shop. Ser Meryn wasn't stabbed through like the others; he was all charred and cooked. Even his nice armour was melted and sooty. I've lived in Flea Bottom all my life and I've never seen anything like it, m'lords! I moved closer to him to look better, and he grabbed me all quick-like and sudden. I screamed, and he whispered somethin' about a god with a golden spear taking Sansa and killing him an' he told me to tell the king this as he died. I showed my commander where the alley was and came right back here to tell you..." the boy broke off weakly and stood in the middle of the council room trembling.

Ser Jacelyn Bywater ushered the boy out of the council room and spoke up. "Mollard speaks truly, my lords. The location and the bodies are all accounted for, and we found this in that storage room," he pulled several scraps of pink silk out of his pocket. "The same make and color of the dress that Lady Sansa was wearing today. It appear that she was either about to be raped or was in the process of being raped by the other men when this mysterious entity appeared and killed them, along with Ser Meryn, who must've stumbled on the scene. My gold cloaks have been questioning the rabble, and no one has seen this golden-armored man or Sansa. They've just disappeared."

Tyrion and Cersei could only look at each other in horror and astonishment. There were no such things as gods, in their minds. The only logical solution was that Stannis had somehow gotten hold of Sansa.

* * *

After about an hour of walking in silence, Sansa finally realized that they had come to the Street of Steel. She wasn't wholly familiar with the layout of King's Landing, but the smell of fire, the sounds of metal being hammered, and the glow of hot coals easily showed that this was the part of the city that housed the smiths and master armorers. Sansa's rescuer stirred from his silence at this point. "Do you know who owns that place?" He was gesturing to the house at the top of the hill, at the very end of the street. A vague memory stirred in Sansa's mind, when she had asked Vayon Poole where her father had gone one afternoon. It seemed like ages ago. _"He's gone to inquire after Tobho Mott's services, I heard. Tobho Mott is the best armorer in the city..."_

"I think Tobho Mott owns that residence. My family's steward said he was the best armorer in the city, so he's probably the richest."

Sansa's rescuer nodded and smiled wickedly. "Well, as it happens, we need a place to stay that has a nice view of the city. Do you think this Tobho Mott would accommodate us?" Without waiting for an answer, he led her up the hill.

A metal fence, complete with arched gate, barred the entrance to the property. The god tapped his spear on the lock, and the gate opened. They walked through a small but well-kept courtyard, with a burbling fountain and intricate metal benches, to a weirwood door guarded by an armored stone griffin and unicorn. Here, the god began gracefully tapping the air around the door and the gate, muttering incantations under his breath. Sansa waited until he was finished before she spoke. "What were you doing?"

He smiled down at her. Sansa was somewhat frightened by this man claiming to be a god. He was very handsome, with raven hair and luminescent green eyes, but his smile was wicked and mischievous, and he bore scars and open cuts from some sort of torture. He walked with a little limp that hinted at more wounds beneath his armor. However, it was his eyes that were most frightening: they were as old as the stars, with mixtures of madness and pain. _He reminds me of the Hound, with his eyes. I don't think he'll hurt me, though. He called me his lady and protected me from those men and Ser Meryn when he could have walked away. He's probably hurt and sad. Perhaps if I'm sympathetic and kind, he won't hurt me like Joffrey did. _

"I'm putting charms around the house, my dear. People won't think to bother us with this protection. Now, I'm going to go inside and you'll stay out here," noting Sansa's terror, he added, "no one will hurt you, I promise."

An awful thought filled Sansa's mind. "You're not going to kill everyone in the house, are you?" She couldn't bear the thought of more people dying for her. "The servants, Tobho Mott, they never did anything wrong!"

The god's hard face softened considerably. "I won't kill them. We need Tobho Mott to continue serving his customers, or people will start to wonder who is living in the empty house. We need servants to see to our needs as well. I'm just going to..._persuade_ them to serve us." He gestured toward his spear and left Sansa alone in the courtyard.

Sansa decided to sit next to the fountain and think things over. She took a seat at one of the benches. It had delicate metal birds in flight decorating the sides. She touched one. _What am I now? Am I a wolf without a pack? Or a little bird, peeping courtesies to avoid a beating?_ She stared at the water rippling against the basin of the fountain, distorting the stars reflected in the little pool.

Screams and the tinkling of breaking pottery came drifting out of a metal-gilded window of the house. Sansa ignored those sounds and tried to focus on the present. _Is he really a god? He can't be of the Seven, so maybe's he's an old god, come to answer my prayers. _

Finally, the god poked his head of the open door. "Finished! Come in Sansa, and see your new home."

Sansa hesitantly left her bench to follow the god into the house. She closed the door behind her and took in her settings. The front hallway was lavishly decorated, with Myrish rugs under her feet and a gilded black goat with jet eyes sitting on a pedestal to her right. A servant scurried by, carrying shards of a broken vase. Sansa was startled to see that her eyes were as blue and luminescent as ice. No human's eyes looked like that.

The god noticed her staring. "It's the mark of my control," he explained. "She'll obey your every command now." Blinking suddenly, he laughed. "I haven't even told you my name yet, have I? I'm Loki, Prince of Asgard, God of Chaos and Mischief."

Sansa could believe the chaos and mischief part of his title. "I am Lady Sansa of House Stark." she said.

Loki smiled. "A Stark, eh? Do you know a Tony Stark, perhaps? With a sigil of a red-and-gold armored man?"

"I've never heard of him. He must be of a different Stark house, as our sigil is a grey direwolf on a snow-white field."

"Ah, you must tell me all about this family of yours. I'm quite anxious to hear about why you were caught in the middle of a riot. I think I shall tell you why I'm here as well." Loki took Sansa's hand gently. "But first, we should sit down and have a nice meal and a cup of wine. I'm quite famished, aren't you?"

* * *

Thor swaggered down the hallways of Asgard's royal palace. He wore a new cloth-of-red doublet embroidered with golden thread hammers. Thor was on his way to fetch his brother for the royal apology. Ever since Loki had been brought up from the dungeons, Thor was certain that things would go back to normal. Loki would beg forgiveness and go back to being a prince, and Thor would be king with Jane Foster at his side. It had been hard at first, to stay away from Loki's room. Odin had declared that Loki would be confined to his room in solitary confinement in order to properly prepare himself for his apology. Thor wanted nothing more than to go and tell his little brother about what had happened since his imprisonment: even though the Bifrost had been destroyed, a few messages from Earth had been sent via the Cosmic Cube. SH.I.E.L.D wanted Thor to come down and have a conference over what had happened in New Mexico, and Jane was eagerly awaiting the return of her superhero boyfriend. Everything was going well for Asgard's beloved golden prince, and Thor wanted his little brother to see how well his life was going.

Turing a corner, Thor finally came to his brother's room. Two guardsmen stood at the entrance in case Loki tried to leave. Thor clapped them on the shoulders and addressed them in his booming princely voice. "Your work is done, good sirs! I am here to fetch my brother for his apology! Step aside and go have a cup of ale, as I need no guards do deal with my wicked little brother!" The guards obeyed without question, and Thor let himself into Loki's room. What he saw surprised him.

The place had not been occupied for days. The spacious bed was rumpled and unmade, smallclothes and jewelry were scattered over the floors and a fine layer of dust had settled over the plates of food spoiling on the table. Thor looked around for his little brother.

"Loki?"

* * *

Loki roared with laughter at Sansa's tale. The pair sat in a series of comfortable armchairs around a crackling fire with the remains of a delicious supper. They were in a room designed to receive and entertain guests, so the place was filled with artistic metal animals and gilded sets of armor, all meant to show off Tobho Mott's fine smithing skills. Sansa and Loki had told each other all of their life's history in two hours of wine, joy, and sadness. Sansa had recounted her life at Winterfell, the king's arrival and Bran's fall, the trip to King's Landing, the beheading of her father, and her subsequent imprisonment with Joffrey's cruelty. Loki had in turn told how he had been abandoned and tortured by his family over his brother's incompetence to rule. However, the storytelling had become hilarious when Sansa had gotten to Joffrey's humiliation during the riots earlier that day. Sansa had just finished describing Joffrey's childish screams of anger when his beautiful crown and clothing were marred by a clump of horse dung.

"It was even in his hair! It was all over my legs, too, but it was funny just seeing his stupid golden crown covered in common nightsoil!"

Loki snorted back laughter. "I bet he screamed for his guards to find the man who did it. My idiot golden-haired brother would have done the same thing: he would have stormed into the crowds, pulled the man out into the middle of the street, and bashed his head in with his hammer while screaming 'By the Power of Thor!'...Come to think of it, my brother and Joffrey have a lot in common. They are both spoiled, golden-haired royals who wear gold and red clothes and torment their younger brothers."

Sansa shivered. "I don't even know Thor, but I hate him already."

The merriment gradually died as they stared into the fire. Sansa didn't know quite what to say, but she finally spoke up. "What happens now? You don't have a home, and my brother is half a kingdom away, fighting." An idea popped into Sansa's head. "Could you take me back to him? He'd be eternally grateful, and would probably give you a lordship for rescuing me."

Loki smiled gently. "I'd love to, Sansa, but I have an even better idea." He put down his wine cup and stared intently at her. "I plan to rule this country myself."

Sansa blinked. "How could you do that?"

"With my magic, anything is possible. I plan to take over this country and style myself as the King of Westeros. Joffrey and the Lannisters don't care about their people: dozens starve in the streets of this city every day, but the nobles don't think to spare any bread from their larders. They only care about who gets the Iron Throne. I won't be a king like that. I plan to see to the needs of my people before the wants of the nobles. I can't take you back to your brother yet, because you see..." Loki got down on bended knee and took her hand. "I _need_ you, Sansa. I don't know anything about this world: who the lords are, the lands, the cities and nations beyond the Narrow Sea. I need someone to help me win my war. I plan to let your brother keep the North, as long as he will leave me to my throne and become my ally." Loki smiled. "And what better way to forge an alliance than with a marriage? If you will have me, you will be sister to the King in the North and Queen of Westeros. I know you are young and still a child, despite your loveliness, but we could marry once we were secure our throne, and I would treat you with all the kindness you deserve. What do you say, my lady?"

Sansa smiled, her heart singing. "I say yes, my lord. I've grown rather tired of seeing a lion on the Iron Throne. Perhaps it's time for the wolf and the snake to find their own way in the world."

* * *

Woo-hoo! Chapter 2! I've finally gotten the hang of navigating the posting process! Thank you so much, my loyal dozen readers! Please keep commenting and following my story! **I love you all...not in a creepy manner, though... .**

**.**

****Anyway, I'm so giddy that I got this posted. It might take a week and a day for the next chapter, as my creative consultant, (A.K.A My Only Friend Who Has Read _A Game of Thrones _and Has Seen Marvel Movies), is out of town for a football game, and I need her opinion on which of two ways this story should go next. But fear not, I will get this done in a timely manner!

Next chapter will have Cersei being stupid about Stannis in the Tyrells (as always), Sansa learning the art of political badassery, and the Asgardian royals _finally_ realizing that they may have been a shitty family to Loki. If you haven't figured it out already, I _hate_ Thor and Odin for the way they treated Loki. _Odin fell asleep during his son's emotional breakdown! *Gnashteethrawrrawr*_

__Anyway, keep reading for the next installment of **_Westeros_**** Lost**!


	3. Explosions and Letters

Chapter 3: Explosions and Letters

The air around Loki seemed to be sizzling. Even though Sansa had informed him that it was now autumn, it seemed to Loki that summer was not quite finished. Still, it was nice to have a warm sun at his back.

Loki hummed a cheery tune as he strolled along the marketplaces of King's Landing. People were out in droves, for food was finally available. Cart owners trundled about merrily, selling hot tarts and pies, smiling butchers seasoned fresh meat, and children raced about shouting and laughing, for they had a full meal in their bellies for the first time in months. The prices were extremely cheap; food vendors were selling at lowered prices as if in apology for not having stock earlier. Of course, the food didn't cost the sellers anything: it had been given to them for free.

It was all Loki's doing, of course.

Loki had been very busy this past week. Every day a few potential workers were sent to Loki's house for a job offer. They left under a strong form of mind control. The servants had infiltrated dozens of shops, inns, and taverns, as well as the Red Keep itself. Loki had his servants kill and replace the spies already present, and they gave hints of information to Varys while they gave the full information to Loki. It had taken a little bit of tinkering on Loki's part to adjust the eye color of his new servants, but it turned out all right. The mind-controlled workers strolled about unnoticed, gathering enough information to bury half of the kingdom in scandals. His servants also had more tasks than just getting juicy secrets.

After Sansa had informed him of King's Landing's famine crisis, Loki had devoted many of his other resources to creating food. It had been quite a sight: Loki sat in the middle of his living space, conjuring up spicy seasoning plants, fresh medicinal herbs, fruits fresh off the vine, vegetables still covered in dirt, and very confused farm animals. His servants scurried back and forth, filling baskets and leading animals out of the house. They stole away under the cover of Loki's magic, delivering the goods to any house needing food. They also spread tales of a kind benefactor who was working tirelessly to protect the citizens of King's Landing. It was true, Loki only stopped when he collapsed from exhaustion. It had seemed like a waste at the time, using all that magical energy that could be spent elsewhere. It was all worth it, however, to have Sansa bathe his forehead with a cool cloth and coo over his graciousness and kindness towards the smallfolk. Sansa was another reason that Loki was in such high spirits.

It seemed to be a stroke of good luck that he had found Sansa in that dark alley. The girl was sweet and innocent to the last and doted upon Loki for saving her life. Sansa had the servants keep the house clean and filled with sweet-smelling flowers, she told him enchanting tales of her world every night by the fire, and she even sewed a creamy white direwolf handkerchief for Loki so he might ride into battle someday with her favor. After years of being neglected by feminine company, it was wonderful to be the object of such affection. Except for Sif, Loki had never really been around females throughout his life. All the eligible girls hounded after Thor the Gallant instead of him. _Sansa's prettier and sweeter than all of them...and she's getting smarter as well. _Every night, Loki was teaching Sansa a little more about cunning and political maneuvering. One night it was lessons about how to read hidden messages in letters and statements. The next night covered how to tell if someone was lying by studying his or her facial features and body movements. A little bit of tutoring each night proved successful with Sansa. She was eager to learn and listen, as she had been a pawn for too long under Joffrey's rule. Loki, of course, was very helpful. He often would discover a new piece of information and would guide Sansa into uncovering its meaning. Loki was always ahead in these games, but he let Sansa win in order to boost her confidence. Of course, Loki had been teaching Sansa a few bad habits as well...

_ It was three days ago. Loki had just come in from a walk around the city and Sansa was chatting with her two new bedmaids. Loki sent them away as soon as he was in the door. Sansa knew what this meant: he had something very important to tell her. Guiding her to a sofa in the drawing room, Loki unfolded a notice that had been posted on a tavern door. The notice was written in an expert maester's hand, and had been posted all around King's Landing. Loki coughed and held it out to her. "Have you seen this before?"_

_ Sansa frowned. "It's written by Stannis, isn't it? A maid of mine was flogged for talking about it." She studied the paper and Loki watched as her expression went from curious to horrified. "Stannis thinks...Joffrey is a bastard born of incest! He thinks that Cersei and Jaime had relations and that all of Robert's heirs are true Lannisters!"_

_ Loki frowned. "Do you think this is true in any way?"_

_ "I'm not sure...Stannis might be making this up as an excuse for him to be the legitimate heir."_

_ Loki leaned forward in his seat, gazing intensely at Sansa. "Is there any way that this could be true? Has anyone died unexpectedly recently, someone who was in close contact with the royal family?"_

_ Sansa nodded. "Jon Arryn died recently of a sudden illness, and my father thought the royal children weren't the legitimate heirs, and he died for it..." Sansa's paused for a moment, realization dawning on her pale face. "My little brother, Bran, he fell out of a tower, and someone tried to kill him. It was an expensive blade, a blade no commoner would own. Someone very rich and powerful wanted him dead." Sansa struggled to hold back tears; she had only heard the news about her younger brothers' deaths the day before. _

_ Loki waited patiently for her sadness to fade, gently holding her hand. "I know it must be hard for you to remember, and you've been through so much the past few days, but do you remember what was going on that day, and if the queen and her brother were anywhere nearby?"_

_ Sansa wiped her eyes and continued. "There was a hunt that day. The queen didn't go, and Jaime Lannister stayed behind to protect the royal family. I didn't see them after the early morning, and they reappeared after Bran was found. Do you...do you think Bran...saw them together, if the rumors are true?"_

_ Loki nodded. "I honestly think this is true. It's too much of a coincidence. Bran knew something that he nearly died for twice. Seeing the queen and her brother having relations would definitely be something to die for."_

_ Sansa scowled horribly, her normally pale face turning pinkish with rage. "How could they do that? They nearly killed him twice! I bet my father found out about the incest and that is why he didn't want me to marry Joffrey! Well, it does not matter now, Bran and Rickon are dead. Their secret is hidden away. Wait, do you think the Lannisters tasked Theon Greyjoy with killing my brothers?"_

_ "What?"_

_ Sansa jumped out of her chair, too flustered to keep sitting. "You told me that hostages are a big part of any takeover, right?" Loki nodded. "And my brothers were heir to Winterfell and they were children, so they were very important hostages, right?" Again, Loki nodded. "Well, why would Theon kill them unless he was told to? Balon Greyjoy wants the North, so maybe the Lannisters told Theon that if he killed the youngest Stark heirs that the Greyjoys could have the North!"_

_ Loki nodded. "That seems very plausible, actually. Theon knew he would have the wrath of the North at his back if he killed your brothers, so he probably expected royal or Lannister protection for his crimes. He'd have to be a complete and utter imbecile otherwise to just kill them for little or no reason. He was raised in a lord's household, so he had a good education that probably included warfare strategy training, so he would know the ramifications of killing the boys. It's a very good theory, Sansa."_

_ Sansa's rage left her as quickly as it came. She slumped back into her chair and began to weep softly. "What does it matter? The Lannisters are alive and well, Jaime's enjoying being a comfy royal prisoner, Theon has the North, and my sweet baby brothers are dead. What does it matter that I figured it out? Nothing can bring them back."_

_ Loki got out of his chair and moved closely to Sansa's seat. "Would justice make things better?"_

_ Sansa blinked tears out of her eyes. "What? What do you mean?"_

_ "I mean," Loki leaned forward. "Would vengeance for your brother's murders make you feel better? You told me that the Starks are very honorable, and don't let crimes go unpunished. The Lannisters and Theon Greyjoy murdered your family members. I think it's time that they paid."_

_ "How could they pay? We aren't ready to take over the city and kill Cersei and Joffrey yet."_

_ "Let your brother deal with Theon Greyjoy. In fact, let's let him deal with Jaime Lannister as well." Loki strode over to the room's table and picked up a quill. "Your brother doesn't know that the queen doesn't have your or your sister. Do you want that to change?"_

_ Sansa strode slowly over to the table, her eyes wide and red from crying. "What would we tell them?" _

_ "We would tell them that the Lannisters don't have the Stark sisters, but Stannis does. Robb will probably execute the Kingslayer, and the Northerners will rally against Stannis and the Lannisters like never before. I'll get Tobho Mott to write the letters since no one knows his handwriting, but you pick the words to say. The Lannisters deserve this, my sweet, don't you think?"_

_ Sansa wiped her eyes, a grim determination on her face. "Yes, they do," she whispered. "I'm doing this for Bran and Rickon and my father. They deserved long, happy lives, and they were cruelly murdered. My brothers were children, murdered in their beds by a supposed friend...Yes, I'll do it."_

_ Loki smiled as Sansa carefully began to write._

* * *

"Any sign of her, Lord Commander?" Tyrion asked every day, and he always received the same answer...

"Not today, my lord Hand. Rest assured, my gold cloaks are searching the entire city for the girl."

Tyrion rubbed his eyelids and sighed. "Very well. Continue searching, but make sure you have enough men loading the boats with wildfire for the invasion. That needs to be completed before we get any reports of Stannis' fleet coming."

"Very good, my lord." Bywater bowed and left the solar. Tyrion sighed and leaned back in his chair. It had been a very trying week. First, the riots left half a dozen nobles raped, murdered, or missing. Sansa and Tyrek still hadn't been found, and if Robb Stark knew about his sister's disappearance, it would mean Jaime's head. Next, Cersei had been an absolute nightmare after losing Sansa. She screamed and fired servants at the slightest provocation, she had slapped Tyrion until his cheeks were permanently red, and even Joffrey was skulking in the shadows to avoid his mother's wrath. In addition, Stannis was on the move, and would be outside of the gates by nightfall. There would be no telling when his fleet would make its way up the Blackwater and begin the invasion. Finally, there were rumors of a potent new power threatening King's Landing. The smallfolk were being supplied with free food, enough to satisfy everyone's hunger. The people distributing the food could not be caught, for the smallfolk would not give them up to the gold cloaks. The smallfolk were singing the praises of their mysterious savior. Tyrion never believed that Stannis had gotten hold of Sansa, and it was more likely that this mysterious man had her. If only they could find him. And they couldn't.

Yes, it certainly had been a trying week for Tyrion. However, there was some hope in the wildfire. If the plan went down correctly, the wildfire would decimate Stannis's fleet and leave him severely incapacitated. Tyrion tapped his fingers on his desk and looked out the window at the view of the Blackwater. Yes, the wildfire was his only hope now...

* * *

Loki finally made his way out of the marketplace and down to the docks of the Blackwater Bay. The docks had been closed for days now, but they still bustled with activity. Gold cloaks rushed nervously about, docking ships, vessels, and pleasure barges with clay pots. Loki had noticed the activity and had reported it to Sansa, who replied that it was probably wildfire, a substance that would burn regardless of water. It certainly seemed that the royals were stuffing as many boats as they could with the stuff, in order to help destroy Stannis's fleet. It certainly would work.

Loki covered himself with his magic and pulled out his staff. He began to run away as fast as he could, and carefully aimed a bolt of lightning at the center of the formation of the boats. It took a second for the bolt to reach the wildfire, but when it did...

** BOOM!**

Loki was thrown back on his feet as a plume of wildfire blocked out the sun's rays. The air turned a thousand degrees hotter as the wildfire consumed the entire dock system and all of the ships and people nearby. Loki gingerly touched himself to make sure he was okay. He stood and brushed off his clothing and smiled. "This will certainly make things more interesting when Stannis comes..."

* * *

Yikes, sorry about the long wait, folks! This past week was Homecoming week, and I was absolutely swamped! (I'm not sure if they do Homecoming outside of America, but for you non-Americans, it's sort of a giant school-pride week that includes dress-up days and a grand football game). Teachers seem to think that they need to all give out tests the week of Homecoming to counterbalance the fun, and it certainly does work! Anyway, this chapter was meant for last week, so tonight I'm going to write this week's chapter and hopefully have it posted by sometime tomorrow.

I'm sorry this was a bit of a short chapter, but it's a filler, for the next chapter includes..._**The Battle of the** **Blackwater!** _(dun dun dun...)

Loki's certainly made a mess of things, hasn't he? XD

Also, stick around for the feedback at the end of the next chapter, for I give shoutouts to my half-dozens reviewers! Woo! So keep reading, my loyal fans!


	4. Not Enough Characters to Describe Epicn

Chapter 4: The Blackwater Battle, More Epic Speeches, and a Little Insanity

Sansa stretched her cramping fingers and pushed her chair away from the table. She had been writing carefully for the past hour, choosing her words with as much delicacy as she could muster. Sighing, she almost rubbed her eyes, but she noticed all the ink drying on her hands.

"Talla, fetch me a basin and some soap." Sansa called to her new handmaid. Loki had brought her a number of servants to choose from and she rather enjoyed the company of her new maids. It was nice to have a few girls around her age to chat with, and Loki had put only a low-level mind control on them so they almost acted completely normal.

Talla brought the basin and waited respectfully next to Sansa as she cleaned her hands. Talla peered at the table, which was littered with papers, ink stains, and stubs of candles. "The candles want changin', m'lady; do you want me to see to it now or later?"

"Later. I have a mind to enjoy a bit of the sunshine while it lasts. I'm finished with my letters for today."

Talla shuffled nervously. "Who're you writing to, if you don't mind me askin'?"

Sansa set the soap down and wiped her hands on a towel. "Oh, it's just some household trifle, Talla, it's nothing important." Loki had warned Sansa to keep quiet about their plans to the lesser-controlled servants, and Sansa had obeyed without question. She had learned her lesson about spilling secrets.

Suddenly, the ground shook beneath their feet. Sansa gripped the table while Talla rushed to keep a Myrish vase from tipping near the window. Suddenly, Talla shrieked. "M'lady, what's going on? The sky's turned green!"

Sansa stumbled to the window and peered out. Sure enough, a humongous plume of green fire blotted out the sun. The flames spread across the Blackwater Bay and made tornados of fire across the black churning sea. The terrified screams of the townfolk soon followed. "Loki was right," Sansa whispered in awe, "the Imp _did_ have a lot of wildfire stored."

Talla was still shaking. "M'lady? What's going on?"

Sansa turned away from the mesmerizing kaleidoscope of jade, sea foam, and leaf-colored flames danced across the sky. "It doesn't concern you, Talla. Go see how the rest of the household fared." Talla hurried to obey.

Sansa pulled a chair next to the window and sat down to watch the firework display. She had nothing to do now but sit and wait for Loki to come home.

* * *

"WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!" Tyrion had stared disbelieving out the window for a few moments, his rage building until he found his voice, and all of his rage, terror, and shock had come out of his mouth in five simple words. The sky was lit by a plume of fire, _wildfire,_ to be certain. All of Tyrion's wildfire was used in one giant explosion. All of his plans, his hope, his _victory_, disappeared in an instant. Tyrion fell to his knees, his vision swimming in and out of focus as he fainted.

The next thing he knew, Tyrion was lying in his featherbed with a soft cloth on his forehead. The entire small council, Cersei and Joffrey included, where crowded around his bed, their faces pinched in anxiety. As soon as Tyrion opened his eyes, they all began jabbering at once.

"Two-hundred gold cloaks dead in the initial blast, another thirty wounded-"

"The smallfolk are claiming its the god's punishment for the Lannister's sins-"

"People in the streets cheering for Stannis and that mysterious lord-"

"-And mother says I can't go into battle now, it's not fair, I'm king-"

"Stannis's fleet is only a day away-"

"SHUT IT!" Tyrion's head was racing a mile a minute. He turned to Pycelle. "Did you say that Stannis's fleet is only a day away?"

Grand Maester Pycelle seemed to have put aside his enmity with Tyrion for the present moment. "Yes my lord, the fleet is only a day away. The final fringes of Stannis's army have just landed across the river and are waiting to cross the river when the fleet arrives. Stannis's fleet itself has just passed Mudclaw Point, so he shall be here in a day or so."

Tyrion rubbed his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position. "We weren't completely finished stocking the wildfire. How much do we have left?"

"About two hundred jars, my lord."

Tyrion groaned and flung his head back across the pillow. "By the Seven, how did this happen? Do we know who caused this?"

Jacelyn Bywater shook his head and sighed. "Anyone within five hundred feet of the explosion died a horrible death. No one lived to see who could have done this."

Cersei scowled. "What will we do now? We are nearly out of wildfire, an army waits across the river, and a fleet of ships is coming to ferry them across. We're doomed!"

"Now wait a minute Cersei, I'm thinking." Tyrion racked his brains, trying to find a solution. "We still have the boom. That might delay the fleet for a few days, before they decide to land men at the mouth of the Bay. It might work; otherwise, we shall send letters to Lord Tywin to plead for his aid. It's the only hope that we have."

* * *

Loki skipped and hopped his way back to his manse, laughing like a maniac. Even though people thought tricks and magic were lowly weapons, Loki loved the chaos that they caused. He would have given anything to see the Imp's face when all of his wildfire exploded in one gigantic moment. Still humming, Loki reached his home and flung open the door. As he expected, Sansa was waiting for him as soon as he was in the door. Loki swept up his betrothed and swung her around in his arms while she shrieked with laughter.

"Did you see that explosion, darling? We've _decimated_ the Imp's plans!"

Sansa laughed, her voice as sweet as any songbird's melody. "It rocked the earth! Everyone's in a panic! I can see what you mean when you said that chaos and mischief were fun."

Loki let his lady go and led her into the house. "Did you finish our letter to the Dornishmen? I want to read it."

"I finished it, yes. You'll have to tell me what you think of it."

Loki smiled. "Actually, I want to have a bite to eat first. Destroying hopes and dreams is very tiring work."

The pair went further into the house, all smiles and laughter.

* * *

Maester Vyman of Riverrun was compiling his notes on the recent battle of Oxcross. The Maester had more links pertaining to history than anything else on his chain, and he felt that it was his duty to compile notes and logs of the recent events to ensure that it survived for future generations. Vyman put down his pen and strode to his library shelves. He looked carefully for his book on the Blackfyre Rebellion. Was King Robb's last decisive maneuver of the battle similar in strategy to one of Dareon Targaryen's during the Battle of Redgrass Field? Vyman wasn't sure.

Suddenly, a loud flutter of wings and the _quork _of a raven startled Vyman so badly that he nearly dropped his book. A large raven had flown into the window, a scroll tied around its leg. Vyman hurried forward. A raven at this time could mean either good or bad news for King Robb. Vyman untied the scroll and read the first few sentences. He gasped; this was bad news, very, very bad news.

* * *

Sansa was perched at the edge of her seat, scrutinizing every facial expression that Loki made. As usual, she couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was very good at keeping a calm mask. Loki carefully read each sentence of the letter before looking up, and when he did, his face was lit up in one of his rare smiles. "This is perfect, Sansa," he praised. "This is simply perfect. Your wording is delicate but carefully crafted, and you get your point across. I especially like this bit, 'The Starks hold honor and justice high in their hearts, and your tragedy must not go unpunished.' This line is very good as well, 'The Lannisters have denied your family justice for well over a decade, and it would be a crime against Elia and her children to ally yourselves with the family that orchestrated their deaths.' A little guilt never hurts when it comes to these things. Well done. This will work perfectly to turn the Dornish to our side."

Sansa blushed under Loki's praise. It had been quite a journey to come this far. Sansa was so proud and happy that she was finally doing something. She had been a pawn for far too long, and her betrothed was giving her many opportunities to better herself.

Loki put down the letter. "And now, we move to the next phase of our plan. My spies have informed me that Tywin Lannister moves with Mace Tyrell away from Riverrun and will attack the Baratheon forces across the river."

Sansa gasped. "Are you sure? What are we going to do?" She had only been learning politics, not warfare.

Loki laughed. "We're going to do nothing for a day or two. Let Stannis and Tywin batter each other for a few days. Tywin has about sixty thousand men; Stannis has twenty thousand on land right now. The Imp will probably raise his boom and force the fleet to ground on this side of the river. Stannis's army on the riverbanks will be all alone. It's obvious that Tywin will win the land battle. However, since he has no way to cross the river without ships, he will be forced to watch as the fleet's men sack the city, once they land. The royals in this city will know that Tywin will eventually reach them, so they will probably hole up in the Red Keep. The citizens will be left all alone, and they will cry out for their gods to save them. However," Loki smiled that pure evil smile of his. "Only one god will come to save them, and may the Seven help Stannis's men once they land."

Sansa had only one question. "What of the rest of Tywin's men? There will be many left after the battle."

"Oh, a little poison will take care of them, unless they decide to retreat and regroup back in the riverlands. The mobs of King's Landing might persuade them to do this."

It was a brilliant plan. Sansa could only marvel at her betrothed's cunning and intelligence. "It's a wonderful plan, my lord. But what shall I do in the meantime?"

"You shall stay here and continue your studies. The crowds will meet their new queen once it is safe for her to go out in the streets."

Sansa couldn't help but be a little offended. She had been learning so much and she wanted to be by Loki's side whenever she could. "Couldn't I help in some way? I don't want to just sit at home and-"

Loki put a finger to his lips. "I promise, once you are my queen, you shall sit by my side and be my equal. For now, however, we must play our parts. I must play Baelor the Blessed come again to the smallfolk and a malicious enemy to the Lannisters, and you must be my maiden bride, a goddess of traditional feminine make. The smallfolk and nobles except for the Dornish are not quite ready for such a smart lady like you. Once we're crowned, they will have no choice but to accept our decisions." Loki noted Sansa's sour expression and his face softened. "It will only be temporary, I promise! The smallfolk will rejoice to see the Maiden in flesh, and our allies will be satisfied with a kind and tender queen to gentle my wrath."

Sighing, Sansa hid her disappointment and donned her lady's armor. "I shall do as my lord commands, for your decisions are final."

Loki laughed. "Well, maybe not _that_ into character! Just be sweet and innocent, and it shall be enough. Let's talk about other matters, shall we? Do you think that your mother and brother have gotten our letter yet?"

* * *

In fact, Maester Vyman was on his way to Lady Catelyn at the moment. He scurried down the steps from his chambers to Lady Catelyn's solar. He huffed and puffed as he ran; he had been delivering too many horrible letters that needed immediate attention that day. Finally, he reached the main door and composed himself, knocking politely on the door to the solar. Brienne of Tarth opened the door, her face changing from dour sadness to surprise in an instant.

"What brings you here, Maester?" she asked gruffly.

Maester Vyman pushed past her as politely as he could and strode the room to where Lady Catelyn sat. Her eyes still held traces of her grief about her sons, and she seemed to have aged ten years. Her supper was growing cold before her. It broke Maester Vyman's heart to tell her this news.

"My lady, I have grave news. It's-"

"Is it news of my son Robb?" her face turned ashen at the thought.

Vyman coughed. "No my lady, it's news of your daughters from King's Landing." Vyman noticed that Lady Catelyn looked like she might be sick. "Shall I escourt Lady Brienne out?"

"No, no, she can stay, I just..." Lady Catelyn's hands were shaking. "I can't read it myself. I-I just cannot. Please, read it out loud."

Vyman coughed and began; it was a little hard to read, as it was written in a shaky and disjointed hand.

"_My name is Wat, and i'm a kitchen boy at the red keep in King's Landing. My big sister knows a little of writing so i had her make this. My parents died in the riots this week and i miss them very much. I hate the gold cloaks for killing them as all they wanted was bread. I like you the King in the north becuse you fight for the people and i bet you wouldn't let us starve like the Barathions have. i am sending this because i like you more than Stannis and his evil priest. The royalty here at King's Landing never had Areya Stark. She never was found after they killed at the Hand's men and the Lanisters lied about it. They let king Joffrey beat Lady Sansa all the time and she cried a lot and never ate her food. She liked lemon cakes and she was the pretiest girl id ever seen in my life. She was lost in the riots and the Lannisters sent gold cloaks after her in case she was raped. They found all the gold cloaks dead by dark magic and the Lannisters think it was Stannis. They think that he has both Areya and Sansa. I snuck this up to the raven room in King's Landing and sent it off when the old meister was sleeping. im sorry about Sansa she was so sad all the time."_

Maester Vyman finished reading and looked up at Lady Catelyn.

Catelyn tried to compose herself and managed to look up at Vyman. "Is this some sort of forgery? Are you sure this is legitimate?"

"I've read many letters written by illiterate smallfolk, and this letter is consistent with the normal peasant writing style and grammar. My lady, what course of action do you wish to take?"

Lady Catelyn was a truly nobly born woman, and a good mother to the king. She hid her grief and kept her voice from quivering as she spoke her next words. "I want you to keep this secret until King Robb returns from the West. He shall deal with the Kingslayer himself."

_ Unfortunately, luck was on the Lannister's side. Tyrion's chain boom kept Stannis's fleet at bay. The rest milled around on the edge of the Blackwater Bay, waiting for the command from Stannis to land on the other side of the Bay and attack King's Landing._

_ Loki's prediction about Tywin and Stannis's armies proved correct. The next day, the two battle commanders met in the field, as Tywin's army had practically ran into Stannis on their way to King's Landing. The battle waged on for the better part of a day and finally ended with Stannis's defeat. Stannis himself and half a hundred men managed to make their way to a boat that sailed to the edge of a strip of land about a hundred feet in front of the boom. Tywin lost thirty thousand men, and took only three-hundred prisonsers. In all, only eight-hundred of Stannis's original twenty thousand land soldiers survived. However, Stannis Baratheon was not a man to admit defeat. He had dozens of ships with thousands of men. Tywin Lannister had no ships and was on the wrong side of the Blackwater Rush. Stannis also knew that King's Landing was mostly protected by gold cloaks, most of which would desert of the battle went wrong, so Stannis decided to attack King's Landing..._

Tyrion Lannister stood at the Mud Gate with an axe, a horse, armor, and very little hope. Cersei and Joffrey had given up; they had locked themselves and the rest of the nobles in the Red Keep with all of the Lannister guards and a hundred veteran gold cloaks. The remaining gold cloaks were tasked with defending the city. However, hope was all but lost. Thousands of Stannis's men were outside the city with battering rams and siege weapons. The enemy was battering the Mud Gate with those weapons; they would burst through the gates of King's Landing any minute. Tyrion knew it was stupid to try and fight them, but he would rather die in battle and be remembered for trying to save the city than be remembered for hiding behind the walls of the Red Keep with the city was savaged. Defeated but determined, Tyrion addressed his men.

"They say I'm half a man, and I'm willing to fight, so what does that make the lot of you?"

One man shrugged. "A live craven, I suppose."

Tyrion nearly slapped himself. _Honor is nothing to them. Many of these sellswords have survived due to their lack of honor. _Tyrion sighed. "Fine. When Stannis's men break through this gate, who do you think they will kill first: men who are healthy and fit to fight who might turn face and start killing if spared, or the cowards?"

Luckily, that spurred the men. The sellsword gold cloaks and Tyrion all gave a rousing battle cry as the Mud Gate splintered open with a loud _CRASH_. Tyrion rushed forward on his horse, slashing at any man who came close. He lost track of who he's injured or killed; so many men were streaming into the gates. Archers picked off gold cloaks who lowered their weapons for a second. Knights streamed past, their superior armor cutting through the hastily-assigned standard gold cloak armor. Horses screaming like devils smashed gold cloaks into pulp with sharp hooves. All around Tyrion, the gold yielded to the fiery red heart of the Lord of Light. Tyrion was never more afraid of the color of red. Red, red, red, the color of blood, the color of Stannis, the color of defeat, it covered _everything_. It flowed in the streets, it painted the brickwork of buildings, it clouded vision. Tyrion was more terrified than he ever was in his life. All he knew was that red was death, and he had to get away from it. All of his previous courage abandoned him. He couldn't die yet, not_ now_, his heart still had a lifetime of work to complete. Tyrion wanted to scream, for he knew he had to flee.

"Retreat! Retreat back to the Red Keep! Run for your lives!" Again, luck served Tyrion Lannister, for he had a horse, and many of Stannis's soldiers didn't. He and the few surviving gold cloaks made a hasty retreat, and the soldiers of the Lord of Light didn't care, for they could always pick off the ragged remains of the guards of King's Landing later. After all, why chase after a few survivors when there was a whole city waiting to be looted? Stannis's men gave a ragged cheer and began to smash windows, break down doors, and race across the city, and the screams of soldiers gave way to terrified screams of the innocent.

Loki had waited for this moment for a long time. He had never felt better in his life; he was healed, he was strong, he had armor, magic, and the token of the lady he loved on his sleeve. Even though he looked down upon the human race in general, he had grown oddly fond of King's Landing and its ragged citizens, and it was time to save them. Loki let his mind-controlled servants chase after the gold cloaks, and Loki himself faced Stannis's army. Using his mind, he sent tendrils of magic in every direction across the city. The wisps of magic detected any soldier who had strayed away from the main body of the looters. Loki concentrated, and their bodies fell apart and disintegrated, like water splashing over the floor. Loki laughed; _this _is what being a god was truly about! It wasn't about immortality or a divine homeworld, it was about _power_. Power to scatter a body like atoms, to kill with a _flick_ of your mind, with no more energy than turning your head. It was beautiful, it was majestic, and it was _divine_.

Nevertheless, picking off a few bodies wouldn't satisfy Loki. He plunged forward through the streets until he found the body of Stannis's soldiers. They were looting and pillaging his _city_! They were smashing _his_ stores, killing _his_ people, destroying_ his_ happiness! This would never do. Loki gathered up his magic and strode in front of the first men. Only few noticed, and when they rushed him, Loki waved his scepter, and they disintegrated into ash. That certainly gathered the attention of the other soldiers, and a few calls to arms pulled men away from their pillaging to attack this new and dangerous foe.

When Loki was younger, Thor had told Loki about battle lust. _"All you see is red, your energy never fails you; there is only kill after kill after kill. You are a god in battle, all you need to survive on his bloodshed. It's a blessing and a curse, Loki."_ Loki had decided long ago that he would never have a taste for battle. Bloodshed, screams, the screeching of metal on metal, it was all too messy for Loki's tastes. Tonight, however, he discovered that there was another type of battle lust, a type that involved magic. Loki's magical energy had rarely failed him, and tonight he had all the energy in the world. It was so intoxicating, to pull up store after store of energy, to see himself kill humans like they were ants, to see himself slaughter so many. It was a pure joy, a joy so wonderful that Loki wished it would never end. Humans disintegrated, burned, boiled, bled, even drowned, and Loki never had to physically use his staff, for magic did all his work. Eventually the soldiers threw down their weapons and begged for mercy; Loki killed them. They tried to run away, and Loki killed them. They committed suicide, for it was better to die quickly and painlessly, but Loki still destroyed their bodies just the same. Finally, towards, dawn, the soldiers ran out and Loki collapsed on the ground, all his exhaustion catching up to him.

The innocent civilians of King's Landing had shut their doors and hidden in the corner once the magical slaughter began. Once the screams from outside stopped, they raised their shutters, unlocked their doors, and crept outside. One man had survived the carnage and was slumped on the ground near the Mud Gate; he wore a leaf-green cloaks and leather armour adorned with golden trim. He also wore a helm with golden horns. The citizens crept closer, their fear evident. The man was pushing himself to his feet, using his staff as a crutch. He finally stood and looked around. Thousands of men and women of all ages and classes were grouped around him, too shocked to speak. Raising his head, the stranger addressed the crowd with a hoarse voice that grew louder as he spoke.

"People of King's Landing, look around you! A few hours ago, this city was on the verge of destruction. Women would have been raped, children smashed against walls, and entire streets burned to the ground. A man who claims to be the best ruler for the kingdom would have allowed his. He would have allowed his citizens to be killed simply to pave his way to his throne. The nobility of his city failed you as well. They did not feed you and they did not protect you tonight. But I have! My magic saved this city: I burned the wildfire that could have destroyed the city, I killed the soldiers bent on destroying you, I grew your food that saved your lives. Yes, the magic you saw killing provided life as well. In two weeks, I provided more for this city than any other ruler has in a long time. All I ask is that you give me your support for the throne of Westeros! A small price to you and your lives shall never be better!"

All the people were still shocked until one man broke the silence. "But, who are you?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Loki laughed. "Who am I?" He spread his arms wide and began to levitate off the ground, to the shock and surprise of the crowd. "I am Loki, a god of Asgard, the home of the true gods. I grew tired of the other gods' arrogance and cruelty, and I wished to further help the mortal race by helping a kingdom in need of a miracle. And were your lives not better when I came?"

A few ragged cheers went up, spreading across the mass of people. Emboldened, Loki continued. "I brought you food and protection, and winter is coming, my people. You are in need of a good ruler to keep you safe and whole through the coming darkness. I am no Lord of Light, I am no god of the Seven, I am a god who appears to you in the flesh and speaks truths and delivers his promise, and I want to be your king. Will you have me, Loki Laufeyson, as your king?"

The cheers had been spreading throughout the tail end of Loki Laufeyson's speech, until the whole crowd was surging and pulsing to one name, one idea, one hope. "Loki, Loki, LOKI"

Loki smiled. This was the first time people had chanted his name in joy, and he had never felt prouder.

* * *

_Finally, _I finished this! I'm high off adrenaline and Mountain Dew from a horror-movie marathon and I'm sitting in my house at 3 a.m. with all the lights on and jitters in my fingers, but I finished it! I've never written a single battle scene, and I've been fretting and re-writing and scrapping the last half of this chapter the entire week, but I finally slapped some sense into myself, sat down, and wrote it. This chapter had a lot of stuff, I admit. Jaime's life is at stake, Loki finally revealed himself, and Stannis got his ass kicked. I am going to assure you guys that Tyrion did the survive the battle and is currently getting hauled to Loki's mansion by some mind-controlled servants. ***EDIT*** Damn it all I'm sorry that I keep deleting and re-uploading this. I keep forgetting to edit something or do this or that, and my tired brain has an urgent need to fix this, so I delete and re-uploaded the chapters. So, sorry about that and sorry if my indentations are a little off: I can't figure out how to make my tab work anymore when I edit this on the Fanfiction editing page. Anyone know how to fix this? XD

Ugh, Loki got really creepy during his killfest, didn't he? Remember how in the first chapter I really detailed his torture in Asgard? Well, it did unhinge him quite a bit, we finally saw it during this battle, and it's going to be present more in the future chapters. Thanks for reading, people! Wow, twelve reviews, I feel like, well, a _god_! _Heehee..._

And what better way to say Thank You to my people with some personal feedback? (Note, I'm going to address people who've posted more than one review only once, since it'll be killing two birds with one stone).

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**Gloriana the Younger**: First review, yay! I'll forever remember you for that! I Loki is really happy with Sansa's fawning, and Sansa really does want a nice guy to fawn over, even if she is getting smarter. Yes, revenge is beautiful, _*flails around*_ Mwahahaha! And Loki is going to work on getting nobility support, he has a plan, trust me _*wink*_ Thanks so much for commenting!

**Like a Clockwork Orange**: Yeesh, I'm a little creeped out from your name, but whatever! Thanks for reviewing three times! Yes, people are going to get sloppy and panicky, I assure you! Sansa will be learning political badassery, but it's going to be a bit of a transition from "ladies must be courteous and polite" to "Let's do this option: it'll kill two birds with one stone" yada yada. Don't worry, it'll happen, but it's going to be gradual. Yes, Stannis is going to be the public enemy for this, until our high houses start to hear of a dark magic creeping into the land...and I absolutely hate Theon. Yes, he is a little more sympathetic after Ramsay gets ahold of him, but he still murdered two kids to cover up his mistakes, so he sucks. Anyway, thanks for much for your support!

**Guest #1**: I don't know if you have an account somewhere, but thanks for reviewing! I'm keeping this in the _Song if Ice and Fire_ section because it's going to be more book-centric in the long run. Daenerys is going to move on to the slaving cities instead of "Where are my dwagons FIYUH AND BLUD" and there's going to be Noble Robb instead of Thinks With His Dick Robb (The Talisa/Jeyne situation). Also...Italy you lucky sonofabitch -.-. Thanks for dropping a review and come back soon!

**Straight Edghe**: Thanks for a review! Yeah, I loved Loki's staff, so it's going to be making appearances, and I'm always up for a little groveling :). I giggled so much while writing the ending to chapter 3, it was so much fun! Thanks for the review!

**Elle**: I'm going to say this: when it comes to fanfiction, it's entirely our characters. Sure, we try and stay as book/movie faithful as we can with the stories but ultimately, our views on the matter will bleed through. I don't blame you for getting ancy, as I certainly can't keep reading certain stories because I hate how the characters are, and I understand your perspective. _You_ feel that my speech was too OC and _you_ don't like my treatment of Loki's family, whatever._ I_ liked my speech, and _I_ felt that Loki's family were total D-bags. I honestly posted this story on Fanfiction because I wanted to share it with people, otherwise I'd have just wrote it for myself and kept it on my computer. My characters' personalities and decisions will stay, and I'm not going to change it. I'm not trying to call you out or anything, but I'm just trying to explain my rationale. Thanks for your review, as I like different people's perspectives, so if you want to find out where this is going, keep reading.

**Esmeraulde11**: The Marvel-verse guys will be appearing later in the story, towards the end, but I can assure you, they will be making cameos. I WILL tell you right now that there will be a sequel to this, I'm not sure what's all going to happen yet, but let's just say that a little more conquering and Avengers-type stuff will be involved...Thanks so much for reviewing!

**Guest Reader**: Thanks for the eight words, they all matter to me. Here's your update and thanks for the review!


	5. Alliances and Pet Nicknames

Chapter 5: Pet Nicknames and Alliances

Tyrion Lannister's vision was a cloudy thing at first. He tried to open his eyes wider, but the glare of the blurry candles in the room prevented him for trying too long. He managed to see that he was in a feather bed in a small but clean and orderly room. Tyrion was swathed in a cocoon of blankets, his body pinned to the bed by an expert caregiver. He gave up on trying to free himself from his fluffy prison and slumped back into the bed and tried to remember what had happened.

Tyrion last memories were of running for his life with about thirty or forty other gold cloaks and sellswords. He had put his spurs into his horse and was driving the beast back to the Red Keep when the screams began behind him. It was the screams of men dying in battle, not the panicked terror of innocent women and children. Tyrion had begun to slow his horse to figure out what was going on when someone felled him from behind with a sharp blow to the head. Now, he was stuck in this bed with no memory of how he got here.

Tyrion's eyes were just beginning to adjust to the light in the room when the door opened with a soft creak and a man entered. He was tall and thin, with black hair and cold green eyes. He wore all black clothing except for a golden chain adorning his surcoat. Sitting down on a chair near Tyrion's head, the man snapped his fingers. Somehow, this clarified Tyrion's mind and eyes, and he was able to sit up a little and look at the man. The man's eyes were old and cunning, and Tyrion was sure that he had met an intellectual match.

When the man spoke, he had the effortless tone of a high lord. "I see our little battle commander has finally woken."

Tyrion coughed and sat up a little more. "And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

The man smiled. "You would be addressing King Loki of Westeros, Prince of Asgard and the God of Mischief and Chaos. I know who you are, Tyrion. My lady has told me all about you."

"And what lady would that be?"

"Lady Sansa Stark. Once the battle was over, I raided Stannis's ships and camps and found her among other highborn prisoners. It seems that she was too valuable of a hostage to leave back at Storm's End."

Tyrion frowned. He was surprised that Stannis actually had Sansa; he had secretly thought that someone else had kidnapped the Stark girl. It would have been very hard for Stannis to have smuggled Sansa out of the city unnoticed. "What did he want of her?" he asked.

Loki shrugged. "A highborn hostage to keep Robb Stark at bay, an ingredient for the Red Priest's bloodmagic, who knows? Sansa's purpose was never explained. But it doesn't matter; she's safe with me, and Stannis and his men are done."

"What did you do with Stannis? Kill him?"

"No. He and two dozen other highborn captives are in my cells, as I know the value of a good hostage. From what my lady tells me, you've been a highborn captive before, haven't you?"

Tyrion felt fear spreading through his body. "So what shall you do with me? I'm not a valuable captive, and you have dozens of others to choose from. Why am I in a feather bed while others wait in cells?"

Loki's smile softened a little. "My sweet lady begged for your life. She remembered that you showed kindness to her when she was Joffrey's captive, and she felt that it was only fit to repay kindness with mercy." Now Loki's smile took on a more twisted look. "If it were up to me, you'd be in a cell with the others. I wouldn't have killed you right away, however; it was too much fun to play with your mind, and I respect my opponents."

Tyrion sat up as straight as he could, his tone taking a sharp edge. "You! You're the one who destroyed up my wildfire!"

Loki laughed and threw up his hands. "Guilty as charged! I would have given anything to see your face at that moment, I assure you."

Tyrion scowled. "What will you do with me later, once you've claimed your throne, if you manage that?"

"I honestly don't know whether I will kill you or not. I haven't made up my mind. Anyway, I have more concerns than to sit here and humor you with answers. I've got to plan alliances, oh-! Did you know that the Dornishmen want an alliance with me? Sansa sent them a lovely letter promising them justice that your family has denied them for Elia's murder. Isn't that nice? Otherwise, I'm going to be dancing your father and the Tyrells around on marionette strings while I plan my wedding."

Tyrion frowned. "Wedding?"

Loki's smiled widened until it stretched the corners of his mouth tight. "I'm not just calling Sansa my lady because I favor her: we'll be wedding soon enough.""How did you force her into accepting that proposal?" A horrible thought began to push into Tyrion's head. If this man wed Sansa Stark, he would be marrying himself into the power of the north and the riverlands...and with the Dornishmen at his back, he would have nearly half the strength of Westeros at his hands...

"I never forced her to accept the proposal. We're quite in love with each other and the smallfolk absolutely adore her, even though they haven't seen her face yet. She's busy in her rooms right now, fretting over her clothes. We'll parade through the city together today to take the Red Keep, and Sansa wants to make a good impression on her subjects." Loki rolled his eyes in mock horror. "If she takes this long to pick clothing for a short ride, I'm terrified to see how long she takes to choose her wedding dress." Loki pulled out some sort of circular disk on a metal chain and stared at it intently. Tyrion could've sworn that it was some miniature time-telling device. "Sansa will be looking for me. Anyway, it was nice talking with you. I'm going to look forward to talking with someone of your brand of cunning. In case you're worrying, I probably won't kill you after all. It would be too much of a waste. The question is, however, is _what_ I'll do with you later."

The seriousness of Loki's threat was seriously diminished by the arrival of Sansa Stark. Tyrion was amazed by the transformation that he saw in the girl. Sansa was no longer the pale, haunted girl that she had been in her time as Joffrey's betrothed: she was now a rosy-cheeked, smiling, twirling goddess of beauty. She stuck her head through the doorframe. "Loki my darling knight, why aren't you getting dressed? You aren't wearing all black to meet your people! Oh, hello, Tyrion, I hope you're feeling better."

Tyrion held back a snigger as Loki flinched visibly. "I'm sorry, my darling daffodil," Loki said apologetically. " I was distracted. I'll be there soon, I promise."

Sansa skipped off merrily, humming and twirling her skirts. Tyrion burst out laughing as soon as she was gone. "What did she call you? 'My darling knight', was it? I'm surprised that you'd bow to the whims of some prancing, love-struck child."

Loki shrugged good-naturedly and kicked the edge of Tyrion's bed, which caused Tyrion's head to vibrate painfully. "Say what you will, she's an incredible girl. I love her like I've never loved anyone before. I'd put on a dress and dance to a fiddle if it made her smile for just one second. She isn't normally this fanciful; she's just so excited to get revenge on Joffrey and Cersei. She's also very giddy about our new alliances. We have just sent a letter to Robb Stark informing him of our victory. Sansa also sent him a charming letter detailing her love and affection for me and that there should be an alliance between my kingdom and the north. Also, what do you think Robb will do to Jaime once he knows that you are defeated and his sister his safe?" Loki smiled at Tyrion's look of horror. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to change."

And with that, Loki danced out of the room, laughing, while Tyrion buried his face in his hands.

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I'm sorry for the short chapter update, but I need to go to bed. I promise that I'll write a longer chapter tomorrow before I go to work! This was just a little filler to hold you guys off until then. I've been waiting so long to write the first exchange between Loki and Tyrion, and there will be more to come! Also, Loki will blame Sansa's absence from the world on Stannis. Loki and Sansa will know the truth of course, but they are going to sing a very different tune with everyone else.

I'm also sorry that this took so long to write. I was very sick during the last week of September, with blood work at the doctor's office and everything. I finally got back to school this past week to find a pile of homework and no time to do it. I'm also in my school's play (I'm Violet Beauregarde in _Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory_), so rehearsals are taking up homework time as well. I'll get this written and I'll try harder to keep on schedule, but if I don't make my deadline, there'll be update info on my profile. Keep reading, my darling readers! I am so honored by your reviews and views, your words of encouragement just keep me going when I'm having a tough day!

Anyway, in Chapter Six of _Westeros Lost_, Robb comes back to Riverrun with a wife and finds that he's missed a lot of stuff, Loki and Sansa merrily sack the Red Keep with REVENGE thrown in, and we'll see Dickhead Joffrey meet the awesome Loki! Woo! Also, we'll get a teeny update on what the Mighty Thor and Absent Dad Odin are worrying about.

See you soon!


	6. Sunshine and Candy Mountain!

Chapter 6: Sunshine and Candy Mountain!

Sansa finished fixing her hair and looked at herself in the mirror. She was dressed in a deep plum-coloured dress that had swirling silver leaf pattern trim. She wore pearl earrings cut in the shape of teardrops and a simple silver chain. Looking her outfit, Sansa decided to pick a less flashy pair of earrings. She needed to look regal but not too rich in front of her subjects. Sighing, Sansa turned back her dresser and began hunting out her silver-swirled earrings. She jumped at a knock on the door.

"Sansa, are you finished yet? We should get to the castle before noon." Loki sounded ecstatic this morning, Sansa noticed. He happy that they were finally moving out of their manse; Loki was beginning to feel too confined in the center of the city.

"Yes, I'm nearly done," Sansa called. "I'm just fixing my earrings, and we'll be ready to go. Can I see what you picked to wear?"

Loki opened the door. Sansa scowled. Loki had decided to only fancy up his usual black-and-green ensemble with a few bits of golden adornment. "Loki! I thought we agreed that you weren't going to wear so much black!"

Loki shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I really feel comfortable in this clothing. I don't like wearing multitudes of colorful jewelry. It makes me feel like a peacock."

Sansa sighed. "Well, I suppose I can't always have my way." She put on a smile and walked over to Loki, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a big kiss. Loki responded for a moment before he flinched and pulled back. "We really should get going. There will be time for that later. I'll be out front, making sure that our escourt is in place." Without another word, Loki turned on his heel and left.

Frowning, Sansa went back to her jewelry, her mind on other things. Loki had changed since the Battle of the Blackwater. He acted as if everything was fine in public and would kiss and laugh with Sansa, but he would turn silent and brooding when they were in private. Loki spent more and more time chatting with his prisoners, and from what the servants were whispering, he would come back with bloodstains on his clothes. It was beginning to scare Sansa. She thought that Loki would have begun to truly adopt his good personality that he used with the crowds. Sansa had been so frightened of him when he had killed those men in that alley, however grateful she was for the intervention. He still acted kind to her, but she had hoped that he was reforming his more cruel tastes. Maybe it was time for a private talk with her betrothed. Sansa put those thoughts aside and practiced her smile for a moment in the mirror. Even if she was confused and unhappy, she ought to put on a good mood for her people. Straightening her necklace one last time, she turned away from the mirror and left the room.

Turning a corner, Sansa and Loki's procession made its way up the hill to the Red Keep. Sansa smiled and waved at her people as they threw flowers at the feet of her mare. The cheering, singing crowds helped ease her mind from her problems. It seemed to be working for Loki, too. He smiled more often and seemed to relax in his seat. Sansa took this to be a good thing and relaxed more herself. Maybe her concerns had no base. Maybe Loki was just hurting inside from all the killing he had to do at the Blackwater. Sansa decided that she would comfort Loki about this; it seemed like such a better explanation than what she had feared.

Finally, the procession came to a screeching halt at the gates of the Red Keep. Ragged crossbowmen began to fire at Loki and Sansa while the peasants dove for cover. Loki smiled and aimed his scepter at each man in turn, letting them see their death before he shot spears of lightning at them, cooking them in their leather and mail. Sansa closed her eyes and tried to ignore the slaughter. _It has to be done, it has to be done. _It was hard to believe that when she heard all the screams of agony and terror. Once the wall defenders were all dead, Loki turned to address the crowd.

"My lady and I must deal with the nobility of King's Landing by ourselves. We must dole out justice to these uncaring royals." He turned around and aimed a blast of magic at the gates of the Red Keep. The metal twisted and shimmered, and Loki turned back to the crowd. "I bid you a good day, my people!" The peasants cheered their new king as Loki and Sansa led their horses through the waterfall of metal before them.

Loki's wide grin turned infinitely more sadistic once they were away from the smallfolk. He waved his sceptre at the metal gates again, and the gates turned back into solid metal. He and Sansa turned to look around the courtyard. The moat drawbridge to Maegor's Holdfast was drawn, and there wasn't a person in sight. A few horses whickered from the stable, and one rabbit lay rotting on the ground. Loki dismounted and helped Sansa off her horse. Sansa felt worried and shivered with fear. Here they were, ready and poised to take King's Landing. Their last obstacle was about to be removed, and Sansa ought to have felt happy. Why was she so afraid for what would happen next? Loki didn't seem to share her concerns, however. "They are all hiding from us, Sansa. They fear for their lives. Shall we prove those fears correct?"

"What do you mean? I thought we were only going to kill Cersei, Joffrey, and the soldiers!" The twist of fear in Sansa's stomach grew tighter.

Loki shrugged. "If anyone else gets in my way, they'll die as well. You don't know what war is like, Sansa. You have to kill your enemies or they'll come back to hurt you. You can't give them mercy all the time, my sweet."

"What? There are women and children in there, what are you going to do?" But Loki was already striding towards the drawbridge. Sansa rushed after him and grabbed his sleeve. "Please, don't do this!"

Loki looked down at her with a scowl. "How many times have you told me that you were mature enough to handle this? That you wanted to see Joffrey and Cersei pay for your father's death?"

Sansa blinked back tears. "How can women and children hurt you? Please, please, please, my love, don't kill the innocent people!"

As Sansa had hoped, Loki's expression softened as he realized how distressed Sansa was. "I won't kill everyone, you know that. I just have to kill our enemies." He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss. "Try and smile; this is a happy day! We're getting justice for your father and brothers!" Sansa managed a smile through her tears. She knew Loki would keep his promise. Loki, encouraged by her smile, used his magic to lower the drawbridge to Maegor's Holdfast. "Now I want you to stay back. There are armed and dangerous men waiting right inside those doors, and I don't want you to get hurt. Could you please secure our horses?" Smiling, Sansa obeyed.

She walked across the courtyard and tied the horses to a hitching post. She again ignored the screams of pain and terror, since she knew that those men were trying to hurt her gallant knight. Sansa looked around as she waited for Loki to finish his work. The sun was shining, but the courtyard looked dead and cheerless. The shrubbery and floral decorations that Myrcella had so carefully cultivated were wilting and dying from lack of care. The air smelled stale and sharp, and Sansa noticed a dead horse laying near the stables. The beast had been butchered for his meat and was a skeleton. Sansa frowned at this. It had never occurred to her that Loki had probably cut off the food supply to the Red Keep. How long had the nobles been starving like the citizens?

Sansa's unhappy train of thought was abruptly cut short by Loki's call. He was splattered with blood, but he waved Sansa over. "It's safe for you to come in now!" Sansa picked up her skirts and went into Maegor's Holdfast. Inside the Queen's Ballroom, a shocking sight met Sansa's eyes.

Dozens of soldiers were dead on the ground, their blood creating a thick sludge on the ground as it congealed. Blood was splattered on the beaten silver mirrors. Only a few knights survived, and they had the gleam of Loki's mind control in their eyes. About a hundred nobility was crouched in the middle of the floor. Women held their children while the men stood in a semicircle around the women in a gesture of protection. A few noble men had picked up swords and had tried to fight Loki and their bodies were intermingled with the soldiers. The men and women remaining looked at Sansa with shock and horror in their eyes. Sansa felt a degree of guilt at this. The Lannisters had trapped these people in the city too, and some of them were highborn captives, just as Sansa had been. Loki was oblivious to Sansa's discomfort as he led her around the maze of bodies they could sit in Cersei and Joffrey's high chairs. Joffrey had kept the Iron Throne in the Great hall but had brought in an ornately carved mahogany chair to sit in instead. Loki had Sansa sit in Cersei's chair. "Cersei, bring your little cubs forward, if you please."

Cersei had no choice but to obey. All of her guards were dead or mind-controlled, and the nobility that she had abused would not protect her or Joffrey. Cersei held onto Tommen and Joffrey's hands as she led them before Loki. Joffrey was shaking silently and glancing sideways at Sansa, and Tommen was weeping softly. Sansa's heart went out to Tommen; he was a good boy who didn't have his brother's sadistic taint. She kept silent, however. She would comfort the boy once Loki had made them swear fealty to the new kingdom.

Loki smiled at the trio of golden-haired Lannisters. "I'd say that you have to kneel; you _do _want to keep safe, don't you?" Cersei swallowed her pride and made Joffrey and Tommen kneel before Loki.

"Unfortunately, if I allow you to live, you will come after me and seek revenge. You might rally the Westerlands to your cause, you might buy sellswords with Lannister gold, or you might seduce some Free City merchant into giving you an army. I won't have it. You don't deserve to live, anyway. You tormented my sweet and innocent lady, you killed Eddard Stark, and you let your people starve. Therefore, I sentence you all to death!"

Sansa frowned as the trio visibly paled. Loki didn't mean Tommen as well, did he? The boy began to weep in earnest as Loki stood up. He smiled gently at the crying child. "I think we'll start with the youngest first." Sansa's throat tightened until she could scarely breathe. She tried to scream, but no sound came out when Loki aimed his spear at Tommen and let loose a bolt of magic. The young prince had only time to let loose a soft shriek before the magic consumed him. He convulsed and disintegrated into a heap of ash. The golden lion's heads adorning his surcoat clattered to the floor, covered in a fine layer of human dust.

Sansa slumped back in her seat, too shocked to cry or scream. The crowd of nobility did all of her crying for her, however. The men shouted, the women shrieked, the children wept with terror. Cersei slumped to the ground, a high, anguished scream rising in her throat. Joffrey stared at the remains of his brother, as shocked as Sansa. Loki ignored the chaos and beckoned to his new mind-controlled the knights. "Take these people back to their rooms and keep them there!" he shouted over the chaos. "We'll bring them back out tomorrow for Joffrey's public execution!"

The knights obeyed, leaving Sansa and Loki alone in the blood-drenched ballroom. Loki turned to Sansa and frowned at her shock. "What's the matter? The Lannisters will all be dead by tomorrow!"

Sansa couldn't speak. Someone had jammed a sharp sword at her throat, into her soul. That sword was made of hints and reality. How could she have not seen this coming? Loki had been talking about killing his enemies constantly, and the Lannisters were all of his enemies since he had come here. But..._Tommen was a boy_. A little boy whose heart was gentle and sweet. A little boy who had always smiled at Sansa when he saw her. Who had played at sword fighting with her little brother Bran. Now he was _dead_, at Loki's hands. That cruel sword cut Sansa's heart to ribbons. She felt tears coursing down her cheeks, but she somehow found her voice and addressed Loki.

"How could you kill him?! He was a good child, an innocent child!" Sansa felt her voice rising in pitch. "You promised me that you wouldn't hurt the innocent people!"

Loki looked shocked by Sansa's outburst. He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. "I told you that we needed to kill our enemies. This boy Tommen was a Lannister, and if we let him live, he could have tried to take revenge on us when he was older. It was a necessity, my sweet..."

_"Don't call me that!" _The smell of the congealing blood made Sansa gag, and she stumbled off the dais to retch. Loki rushed to her side immediately, concern blossoming on his face. He tried to put a hand on Sansa's back to soothe her as she was bent over trembling, but Sansa slapped his hand away. She backed away from him, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. "I didn't see it before? The men in the alley, the servants, the soldiers, the crossbowmen, why did I not see it? You're as sadistic as Joffrey!"

Loki's look of anguish nearly broke her resolve. "Sansa..." he choked.

Sansa only had to look at the pile of ashes to remember herself. "No, I didn't see it because I wanted someone to save me from this hell! I latched myself to the first man who came my way and I ignored all of the bad things about you because you were kind to me! You said you wanted to help this world! Why would you do this? You're a monster!" Sansa stumbled from the room, gagging as she tripped over a body. She ran away to her bedroom in Maegor's Holdfast; it was the only place that felt safe to her now. Loki stared at her retreating figure and slumped into his throne, his face in his hands.

I am an ass. I am a sadistic fuck who killed a small child, a child beloved by the fandom, for a plot device. I told you all that Loki and Sansa's takeover would be joyful, that Thor and Catelyn would make appearances. I lied. I told you earlier that Loki's insanity and cruelty would make an appearance and would be the focus of some new chapters, and here it is. I just didn't tell you when it would happen. Loki feels no regret yet for Tommen's death, he's just pissed at how he handled it with Sansa.

I am horrible for curveballing this plot at you. I did this to my friend The Creative Consultant as well. I told her when she was reading _A_ _Storm of Swords_ that Arya and Catelyn would have a happy reunion, and that it was the only time that GRRM had a heart. She read the first half of the book in a state of giddiness, waiting for this to happen. I watched her read the Red Wedding chapter in a study hall. I watched, her face going from confusion to recognition to horror, with glee. She did not speak to me for a day. I felt no shame. I feel no shame for this either. I look forward to coming home from work to see your reviews.


	7. No chapter title--not creative today

Chapter 7: Procrastination, Catching Up, Searching, and Forced Vacations

I promised a few weeks ago that the upcoming chapters would have Riverrun and Asgard, and I lied at the time. When I started writing the last two chapters, those parts simply didn't fit. This chapter will have four parts instead: a Loki alone scene, a Riverrun scene, an Asgard scene, and a Loki/Sansa scene. I feel bad for letting my readers down, so here's all the stuff that I promised!

* * *

Loki carefully chose his target. He was crouched in the audience chamber for the small council. Squinting, Loki set up his weapon; it took all of his concentration to align his weapon perfectly with the target. Aiming, he finally let loose his missile.

The golden lion's head stud rolled down the floor, smashing into a dozen small spun-glass goblets. The solid-gold stud knocked over every single glass and they shattered with small, tinkly chimes. Loki whooped in triumph. It had taken him a good hour to figure out how to get the golden ornament to roll correctly; it was covered with tiny fissures and crevices to better simulate a true lion's man, and that made it roll rather unevenly. Loki went over to the shattered pins, stepping unconcernedly on the broken glass. He picked up the lion's stud and frowned. There was still a bit of Tommen-dust covering one of the lion's ruby eyes. Loki wiped it clean on his shirt and examined it more closely. Holding it up to the light, Loki marveled at the artisanship that had gone into that one grape-sized bit of gold. If all of the Red Keep's jewelry was this fine, he could sell them and made a fine profit to get the Iron Banks of Bravos their money.

A knock on the door startled Loki out of his trance. A servant entered the chamber and set two covered dishes on the table, along with a decanter of Arbor gold. The wench also wiped down the table and set it for two people. Bowing, the girl left as quickly as she'd come.

Loki frowned, more in confusion than in anger. Why had he ordered any food? He hadn't needed much sustenance today, and he couldn't remember why he'd bothered a servant at all for food. _Oh, right, I was going to invite Sansa to come down to dinner._ Uncovering the dishes, Loki remembered that he'd ordered all of Sansa's favourite foods: fresh-baked trout crusted in almond crumbs, hot breads with fresh butter, a plate of fruit for her to sample from at her leisure, and even a little plate of lemoncakes. A few hours ago, it had seemed like it would be the easiest thing in the world to have Sansa come down and talk with him. A few apologies would be exchanged, and their relationship could resume as normal. Now, Loki was not so sure.

He had sent two servants to see to Sansa's needs, but she had locked herself in her old bedchamber in Maegor's Holdfast. When one of the servants had tried to knock on the door and talk to her, Sansa had smashed a candelabrum against the door and had screamed for them to leave her alone. Loki had ordered the servants to leave her alone for two hours, but when they had checked on her again, she had cried herself to sleep. Loki had spent the next few hours trying to hide the growing seed of fear taking root in his stomach. _I really upset her._ It would take a lot of work to make Sansa happy again. Loki sat down on the Hand's carved chair at the head of the table and began to think.

He had to convince Sansa that it was all for the better; Tommen would have died eventually. He was a Lannister heir, and if Loki's rule would be secure, most, if not all of the Lannisters, would have to die. Loki had decided long ago that Joffrey and Tommen would have to die and it would happen whether or not they were still children.

_Maybe she's angry with how I did it. _Blasting Tommen to ash in the middle of Maegor's Holdfast had been a little extreme, surely. Loki had done it purely to injure Cersei and to show everyone that Tommen was properly dead, but he had done it rather harshly. _Sansa has a kind heart, and brutality reminds her of Joffrey._ Loki knew the boy had suffered as he died, and Sansa knew it too. _I ought to have been gentler._ A quick dagger to the heart, a soft pillow, a cup of painless poison, an overdose of sleeping potion to allow Tommen to drift peacefully into death. The body would still have been available to show that the boy had truly died, and Sansa would have probably been comforted to know that Tommen had died as quickly and as painlessly as possible. _I'll apologize for my dramatic cruelty and promise her that in the future the young and innocent shall not suffer if they need to die._ However, Loki was still going to make Joffrey suffer when he was executed, and Sansa could deal with it. First, though, Loki would apologize to Sansa for his cruelty.

With a plan of action, Loki summoned two of Sansa's old bedmaids from the armorsmith's mansion. Loki produced a key out of thin air and gave it to one of them. "Fetch Lady Sansa and tell her that she is to join me for dinner. Be gentle if she resists, but make her come." The girls departed, and Loki settled back into his chair and allowed himself to smile. Everything would be all right.

* * *

Catelyn Stark saw her son's banners from her high window tower in Riverrun. She couldn't possibly imagine what she was going to say to him. Sansa and Loki's letters were still clutched in Catelyn's hand; her relief over her eldest daughter's fate had moved her to tears. Arya was still missing, but they had to take this one-step at a time...

Ser Desmond knocked on the door to her bedchamber. "King Robb is coming, my lady." he averted his eyes as he spoke. "I expect that he will want to pass judgment on you in person."

Catelyn tucked the letters into a pocket of her gown and stood up. "Take me to my son and king." she said.

Ser Desmond escorted her down the steps. When they reached the yard, Catelyn noticed that there were no Frey banners and a new banner, six seashells on a yellow field. Catelyn paused and considered this. _What has happened here...?_

* * *

Odin's voice boomed across the throne room. "I want him found! Do you hear me? Find him!"

Thor stood in his designated spot below Odin's throne, trying not to cringe as Odin tongue-lashed Loki's guards. Loki had been missing for days now, and Odin's fury grew as each message came detailing his escape. Loki had fled, taking all of his magical weaponry with nary a hint of where he was going to go. The Nine Realms were outraged about the Asgardian prince's disappearance; he posed a serious threat to anyone in his way. Thor hardly cared about what the other realms' opinions were. He was deathly afraid for Earth and his human love, Jane Foster. Loki had promised to get revenge with her that night on the Bifrost...

"Assemble an elite squadron! I want ten of our best trackers and warriors for each team. They are going to scour the Nine Realms and beyond, and they are to make reports every two days. If they find Loki, they are to bring him back _alive_ for Asgardian justice."

Thor felt sorry for Loki; wherever he was, he would be found and would _really_ learn the meaning of punishment. However, Thor's pity was soon tempered with fear and rage. If Loki had hurt Jane Foster and her friends on Earth...Thor would formally request a few swings at him when he came back.

Later that night, the twenty teams were assembled. Nine would be given permission to search the Nine Realms, one would secretly search Earth, and the other ten would go beyond the known stars to find the wayward prince. Odin gave them his blessing as they swore to use their lives to protect the Asgardian crown. Thor watched this in grim silence and retreated to his chambers after the squadrons left.

An hour after Thor had settled in his rooms, a knock came at his door. Thor opened the door and was surprised to see his mother Frigga. Her eyes were red from tears, but she composed herself and sat Thor down at his table. "What do you think about your father's decision today, my son?" She asked.

Thor coughed. "I wholeheartedly agree with him! Loki betrayed our trust and faith in his rehabilitation and is now probably wreaking havoc on some innocent planet! I think that-"

Frigga held up her hand, cutting Thor off. "So you think that rehabilitation means torture and humiliation?"

"Well, he did attack Earth-"

"In a fit of madness." Frigga scowled down at her son, and Thor quailed under his mother's unusually fierce gaze. "Loki had been hurting for some time, Thor, did you ever think of that?" She did not give him a chance to answer. "His revelation over his true parentage shocked him down to his soul, and he assumed that he had to destroy his birth planet to gain his father's true love and respect. Yet, instead of consoling him and guiding him through that difficult time, your father decides to imprison and torture him for his crimes!" Frigga huffed, and Thor saw how much she was trying to stay in control. "The guards report that Loki's mind snapped under the punishments, and he escapes at the first opportunity he gets! Can you blame him for wanting to escape that?"

Thor's voice came out a whisper. "No, I didn't, mother..."

Frigga's next words cut like a whip. "If Odin's bounty hunters find him, Loki will never, _ever_, be part of his family again. He will hate us forever; that is, if his mind doesn't snap for good this time. He was obviously sound of mind enough to escape."

"What would you have me do?" Thor's voice was all anguish.

Frigga threw her hands in the air. "Do I have to spell it out for you? Convince Odin to call off his teams! Odin's won't listen to me, so you have to try. Tell him to let Loki be in peace for a time; he needs to rest and reflect on his own."

Thor jumped out of his seat. "Thank you, Mother, for your opinion. Even if Father doesn't value your words, I do." He kissed his mother's hand and departed from the room.

* * *

With a solid door separating Robb and Catelyn from the rest of the castle, they could finally talk truthfully.

"She's a...lovely girl, Robb." Catelyn finally said after several moments of awkward silence. "But what convinced you to break your treaty with the Freys?"

Robb seemed to find it hard to speak. "I..soiled her honor after Bran and Rickons' deaths, and I married her to keep her honor intact. I..." he noticed that his mother was smiling. "Why are you so happy? I lost our pact with the Freys, my brothers are dead, and this new threat attacked King's Landing! We don't even know whether or not he will make a move against us next!"

"But he won't." Catelyn produced the two letters from her pocket. "We've already received a letter from his unknown man, and he's proposed an alliance between the North and the South."

Robb swallowed. "Give me his letter." He scanned it quickly. " ...I acknowledge the wrongs done to you by House Lannister...I propose an alliance between our peoples...The North can remain a free and independent nation, with the exception of this alliance...all prisoners will be returned to you...King in the North...a marriage pact..." He looked up. "A marriage pact? With whom?"

Catelyn showed him the second letter. "Sansa is safe in his man's care. He rescued her from Stannis and wishes to marry her for the alliance."

"This...Loki..." said Robb, tasting the unfamiliar name, "wants to marry my sister? How does she feel about this?"

"Sansa wrote a letter as well. She is enamored with Loki and finds him a good and just ruler. She says that he is a much better ruler than the previous ones, and is kind and gentle with her. She is happily awaiting marriage and looks forward to seeing us soon."

Robb stood up from his chair and made towards the door. "I need to discuss this with my council," he announced. "But, I think we will seriously consider this alliance, as it will put an end to this horrible war. Oh! How is the Kingslayer?"

Catelyn shrugged. "Fine. Sitting in his cell, as ever."

Robb nodded. "I suppose we shall have to decide what to do with him, now that House Lannister is finished."

Catelyn watched her son leave, joy washing out the stone and tears from every crevice of her heart.

* * *

Loki paced up and down the length of the room, anxiety growing and growing until it threatened to consume his entire being. He coughed anxiously and waited impatiently for Sansa to come. He fixed the collar of his shirt in a beaten-silver mirror and nervously shifted from one foot to another. Suddenly, Sansa was in the room. Loki nearly jumped; she had come in quite silently. The girl was clothed in a blue silken gown trimmed with black thread. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her mouth was set in a soft frown. Loki moved towards her and smiled.

"Why did you insist on this farce?" She stayed in the doorway, neither flinching away nor coming towards him.

Loki held back a sigh. "I wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior. It was wrong of me to kill Tommen under such circumstances, and I apologize for causing you emotion distress, my sweet."

Sansa's frown deepened. "Is that all you have to say after you murdered an innocent child?"

"I'm going to be very blunt with you, Sansa: Tommen was marked for death. He was a Lannister heir, and he needed to die in order to secure my throne. I am only sorry for the way I caused his death, since it upset you. That's the entire apology you're going to get from me!"

Sansa laughed. It wasn't her normal sweet laugh; it was dark and angry. "And what, are you going to promise me that you'll never do it again? I've seen you kill dozens of men, Loki, and you love it! You love hurting people and you love seeing them die painfully! Do you think that you will just stop because I cried? You're a horrible liar, Loki! You're just made of lies! Did you lie to me before, when you said that you were tortured? That your family cast you out? Were those lies to get me on your side?"

It took all of Loki's strength not to slap her. He settled for striding across the room and putting his face close to hers, dropping his voice to a deep, menacing pitch. "You told me that Joffrey's cruelty had matured you, but you're still the same stupid little girl! You prance around and whine for your prince to come sweep you off your feet! When are you going to grow up and face reality? Things aren't going to be sunshine and rainbows; people will die, and many of them will be innocent! This is how life is and there aren't any white knights or honorable men to save you! When will you realize this? Your father died because he tried to cling onto the hope that men were good, and if you keep this up, you're going to get hurt someday!"

"I am already hurt! I thought you were different! You're just like the Lannisters; you lie and cheat and you hurt innocent people! Is it wrong to want a good place where people can be safe and happy? My brother is trying to achieve that-why can't you?"

Loki turned away from her. "You still cling to the belief that your brother is the most noble man in the world? Maybe you need to visit him and see what he's been up to..."

Sansa huffed. "What are you talking about?"

Loki turned back towards her. "I'm sending you back to Riverrun and your family until you learn to grow up! Maybe you need to see what sort of wrongs your brother has been committing, and you'll see how wrong you are about him! You're going to stay here until Joffrey is executed, and you're going to play the part of the happy little queen. Once that's over, we're going to say that you're going to visit your family, as you miss them. You are going to think things over and when you're ready to face reality, you can come back here and we can get this marriage finished. We're going to go through this marriage, as this alliance needs to be sealed."

Sansa couldn't speak through her rage. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, and Loki could hear her screams of anger and frustration echoing down the hall. Loki grabbed the metal lion's head from the table and squeezed it in his palm, using his magic to super-heat the metal. He watched the gold drip between his fingers, burning his hand and sizzling on the floor.

* * *

Yowch, this took a dark turn. I promise you, this chapter and the next one are the most angsty, and after that, we'll get back to business!

This story's only got about half a dozen chapters left, plus an epilogue. I'll tie up the storylines, and we'll get a glimpse of what's going to be the concern in the sequel. Once this is done, I'll take a little break and get a head start on the sequel during Christmas break, with the first chapter hopefully posted somewhere in January.

Keep reading, my awesome fans! Don't forget to drop me a review; they all matter!


	8. Executions and Invasion

Chapter 8: Executions and Invasion

Joffrey Baratheon's execution was both horrifying and satisfying to Sansa. She had dreamed of Joffrey's death for months, but it was terrifying to watch. Loki had yet again proved how sadistic he was. Joffrey was hanged on the outer wall of the Red Keep, but he was hanged only an inch off the ground, so he could breathe if he stood on his toes. His death was slow and painful, Sansa expected. It was not the beheading that Loki had promised; he seemed keen to draw out Cersei's suffering as long as possible. She was tied up near Joffrey's gallows so she could watch her eldest child die.

Joffrey's feet slipped from under him and he began to thrash in the air. Cersei let out a choked sob as her son slowly turned purple. However, Joffrey managed to regain his foothold and he gasped for air on his tiptoes. The commoners, who were congregated underneath the castle, jeered and laughed at their fallen king. Sansa ignored the noises all around her and drew into herself, as she had when Joffrey had showed off her father's head. The young maid gazed outward from the castle towards the opposite end of the Blackwater, where she could see the smoke from Lannister and Tyrell cookfires. _Does Lord Tywin know what is going on here? Does he know that his grandchildren are dead and dying? Will he try another way to storm the city? _The enemy would soon withdraw, so it did not really matter; the 30,000-strong army could not sit in one spot for too long without using up all the surrounding food, and someone would eventually send Tywin a raven.

Sansa glanced at her betrothed. His face was focused on the execution, but his eyes showed that his thoughts were elsewhere. It was hard for Sansa to force herself to stand calmly next to Loki; she was terrified of him at this point. His murders, his screaming at their failed dinner, and the whispers...her maids were gossiping that Loki had made six servants disappear over the course of the last two days. Loki had tried to say that they had left for their homes, but Sansa wasn't fooled. She was convinced that Loki was evil. Had he made up everything about his old life, the torture, the awful family, the home of the gods? Sansa could not say whether it was all true at this point. _He probably made it up to justify his malicious ways or to gain my trust._ Riverrun suddenly seemed like a safe haven during this horrible war.

Joffrey's gasping sobs suddenly seemed to cut through to Sansa's soul. She addressed Loki as bravely as she could, but her voice wavered slightly. "I am growing tired, Your Grace," she said. "Do I have your leave to go and prepare myself for my upcoming journey to my family?"

Loki glanced at her. She could swear that his face was remorseful as he looked at her, but she didn't believe it for a second. "Yes, you may go."

Sansa turned away from the dying boy and the cruel god, her skirts swirling from the wind. She walked down the steps of the gangway and crossed the courtyard. A sudden gust of wind made Sansa stop in her tracks. Living with Loki for several weeks had made her sensitive to magic, and she could feel dark fibers of sorcery on the wind, swirling around her head. _Is this what Loki called dark magic?_ Sansa could not help but wonder if it was leftover magic from the servants' deaths. Ignoring that thought, she went into Maegor's Holdfast.

* * *

Loki left the walls of the Red Keep. He was tired of watching Joffrey choke and cry while Cersei sobbed. Sansa had already gone inside about half an hour ago. Loki had waited as long as he could to avoid meeting her in the halls of Maegor's Holdfast. Loki was in turns angry or fearful whenever he met her. He still remembered the servants: their screams, their tears, and their blood on Loki's hands. He had felt no anger or joy at their deaths, only relief. Loki had nearly hurt Sansa during their last argument, and he had taken out his frustrations on the servants to prevent himself from hurting Sansa. Her constant fear and goose-stepping around him still angered him, however, and he was reluctant to tell her of the servants' deaths, or she would be even more upset.

Loki stopped in the middle of the courtyard. He felt soft remnants of dark magic in the air. Fear suddenly gripped his heart. No one in the Seven Kingdoms could wield such dark magic. He had felt the shreds of magic still clinging to Stannis and his men, and this was not the same. It almost felt..._Asgardian_. Loki tried to breathe, but it felt like a coil was tightening around his throat. _How did they find me? Are they coming to take me back to Asgard?_ Loki knew well enough that he would be sent to the torture chambers again to learn a permanent lesson. He remembered the cold knives, the brands on his feet, the water, the acid, the potions, the starving, the _nightmares_...it all came rushing back to him, all those horrible memories that he had sought to repress with happiness and healing. Loki had to lean on his staff for support to keep from falling. _I can't go back. I can't!_ He suddenly remembered that Sansa was in Maegor's Holdfast. _Sansa is covered with my magic trace; they will hunt her down simply because she is associated with me. _The thought was almost too much to bear. Even though he was still upset with Sansa, the thought of losing her to Asgardians was nauseating. Loki took courage from that fear, and managed to walk towards Maegor's Holdfast, his whole body shaking. Nevertheless, he managed to control himself, his heart heavy with understanding of what he must do. He seriously doubted that he could fight off ten Asgardians, especially the elite guard that would be sent to find him. In addition, if he fought, they would hurt her. He couldn't let that happen. _I still love her; I won't let them hurt her, and if they want me to go back to Asgard, I'll submit. I'll submit and go face the All-Father and if he forgives me, I'll escape and find her and we'll flee across the stars. Otherwise, I will die in Asgard with her face in my eyes and her name on my lips. She deserves better than me, I think. _His casual killing was even beginning to frighten him, and Loki was beginning to understand that he was becoming truly evil. _Better to die saving her than dying with shame and cowardice. _

Steeling his heart to what he must do, he went into the Holdfast. Racing to Sansa's apartments, Loki saw a scene unfolding in front of him, and he sprang forward, screaming with rage...

* * *

Sansa was walking to the kitchens when she heard the whispers.

"I can feel it, sir," one voice whispered. "We're close." The sound was coming from ahead of Sansa. She wondered who would be wandering the halls at this hour. She peeked from behind the corridor, amazed at what she saw.

Ten soldiers were stalking the hallway. They all wore gold-and-white plate complete with golden cloaks. They all shimmered with a power and radiance that Sansa had only seen once in her life. _Asgardians_, she thought. One man raised his voice: "I can smell him; we're close to Loki."

Sansa gasped, and the soldiers tensed at the noise. Their leader quickly strode to Sansa's hiding place and dragged her out by the left arm. Sansa shrieked and clawed him across the face, but her fingernails left no marks while his fingers twitched, breaking Sansa's arm with a strength that Loki had never used on her. Sansa screamed and began to sob with pain as the men laughed at her anguish.

Roaring with rage, Loki sprang forward and stabbed one soldier in the jugular with a force that would have exploded a human. The other men scrabbled for their swords while the leader whirled Sansa around and pressed a knife to her throat. All fighting stopped as the leader of the Asgardian soldiers spoke.

"Don't move, Loki Laufeyson, or your whore gets her throat slit! Put down your spear, _now_!" Loki obeyed wordlessly, his wild eyes focused on Sansa's mangled arm and her agonized tears. The leader nodded. "That's better. Now, you can come with us back to Asgard in peace, or the bitch dies and _then_ we take you back to Asgard." Sansa remained limp in the man's arms, her fear making her shiver.

Loki gulped and put his hands in the air. "You've won, just let her go." The leader nodded at his men, and they moved forward to restrain Loki.

One of the soldiers eyed Sansa from across the room. "She's a pretty one," he said.

The leader nodded. "Aye, and maybe we should show her what happens when stupid girls whore themselves to the enemy." He fingered Sansa's collarbone, making her skin crawl.

Loki scowled at their observations. "She's no whore, and you promised that you wouldn't hurt her."

"I said I'd kill her if you disobeyed; I never said that I wouldn't play with her."

The men restraining Loki seemed to shrink back from the dark words that emanated from Loki's mouth. "Well, it seems that our deal has been broken..."

Suddenly, a wave of magic seemed to flow from Loki's hands and the air shimmered and wavered. Sana's heart skipped a beat and she felt faint. The pressure on Sansa's throat disappeared and the men were suddenly dead on the floor, blood already pooled around their lifeless bodies. Loki was slumped against the wall, pale-faced and shaking. Sansa went to him, cradling her broken arm against her body. "What you do?" she whispered.

Loki coughed and managed to speak. "I...managed to stop time around us...killed them all and threw their bodies down...so much energy needed for a moment...so risky...could have died..."

Sansa could hardly believe what he was saying. It was one thing to kill men with magic, but to stop _time_? Loki was clearly even more powerful than she had thought. "Are you injured?" Sansa asked next.

Loki shook his head. "I'm exhausted beyond belief, though. I could sleep for an eternity."

Sansa did not know how to respond. She stood awkwardly next to her betrothed, trying to hold back more tears of pain. It was hard to imagine a more confusing situation. Loki had acted as if he hated her for the past few days, but he had still saved her from those men. Moreover, those men seemed to really be from Asgard, even though Sansa had been convinced that the torture-bad family-exile story had been made up. The poor girl honestly did not know what to make of these developments. Fortunately, she was spared from speaking.

"Here," Loki reached up from the floor and touched her arm. "Let me see how bad it is." Sansa acquiesced to his request, biting her lip to keep from crying out as Loki ran his fingers over the broken limb. "Your forearm has two fractures, and the worse is on the right side, but the fractures are clean," he said. "I am...not sure if I can heal it, though. I used up so much of my energy, but I'll try." Loki pressed his fingers into the bruised areas of Sansa's arms, and Sansa let out a whimper as he squeezed. A few web of blue energy spread over her skin, but they only lasted for a second before Loki slumped back, shaking from the effort. Sansa touched her arm, but it was still completely broken. "I'm sorry, but I'm too exhausted. We'll send for a maester, however."

Sansa was not disappointed. She hardly cared about her arm; she wanted to know Loki's true feelings at this point. "_Why_?" She asked. "_Why_ did you save me? I thought you hated me."

Loki smiled up at Sansa. "I never truly hated you; I was extremely angry with you to the point where I could hardly stand to be in your presence. However, when I saw you in pain and danger, I forgot about my anger."

"I saw how afraid you were of those men and of Asgard. You were going to risk going back, or were you just waiting to kill them all?"

Loki gulped. These next words seemed hard for him to say. "I was planning on returning peacefully until they threatened you." Loki paused, shuddering. "I am realizing...I am starting to become the very thing that I hate. I have been torturing and killing indiscriminately, just like those soldiers. And..." Loki paused again, and Sansa saw how pale his face had become. "I'm afraid that I can't stop myself. I was honestly going to leave to allow you to be free from me. You can go back to Riverrun for good, if you wish. We can set this marriage aside."

Sansa paused to consider Loki's words. He was right; he was becoming like those soldiers. The servants, the prisoners, Tommen, they had all died under Loki's cruelty. However, Sansa still remembered all the good that Loki had done for King's Landing: the smallfolk had food, they were spared from another sacking, and they had a king that cared about them. That _surely_ had to count for something. Sansa thought for another long moment before she answered. "I still hate you for the things you've done," she whispered, "but now I can see _why_ you did them." She gestured towards the cooling corpses on the hallway floor. "I have now seen what the other Asgardians are like, and I'm afraid. If these men are considered the best that Asgard has to offer, what are the others like? I do believe that they really tortured you, and I feel truly sorry for you." Sansa blinked a tear out of her eye. "I think you're hurt, and you hurt others to make yourself feel better. I'm not forgiving you," she said, as Loki opened his mouth to speak. "I am merely figuring out why you are so cruel. I honestly think that this marriage could work, but you _have_ to try to be a better person."

Loki frowned. "Sansa, you know that I'm no Baelor the Blessed. I-"

"I'm not asking for that! I am just asking that you stop killing servants and children!"

Loki shivered. "I will try to...tone down my cruelty, Sansa. It's going to be hard to prune this growing seed of evil, but I will try to be more fair and good. I'll focus my tendencies on more worthy targets, like Joffrey, to be nicer towards the innocents. Can you accept that I won't be perfect, by any means, but I will try to make myself better?"

Sansa thought back to Joffrey's execution. He probably was not even dead yet. _If anyone deserved it..._ "Yes. We can start with that. And...I will try to be less childish."

Loki shifted his seating on the floor. "Sansa, you are still half a child, even though you are a maid. I should try to remember that; you won't mature in a space of days or weeks."

He smiled at her, and managed to pull himself to his feet, using his spear as a staff. Loki tried to pull Sansa in for a kiss, but she turned her face so he only managed to peck her cheek. "I don't want that now, not for a while," she whispered. Even though she had made her peace with Loki, she still wasn't completely happy. Tommen's face seemed to float before her. _It will take us a long time to go back to the way we were. _Loki nodded sadly at her refusal, his face exhausted and sad.

Loki concentrated for a moment to call a servant with his mind, and he sent him to find a maester for Sansa's arm. While they waited, Loki thoroughly examined the bodies. He pulled blood-soaked weapons from the bodies, picked through pockets, and even searched boots for secrets. Loki came up with one valuable item on the leader: a small, black cylinder. The cylinder was made of some sort of heavy metal, had clasps on both ends, and was engraved with silver-gilded runes. Loki's face grew more and more fearful as he studied the words etched in the object. He suddenly dropped the tube and gave a cry of fear. Sansa rushed to his side. "What is it? What is it?"

Loki ran his fingers through his hair, hyperventilating in his terror. "Oh no, oh _please no_, not that!" he choked.

Sansa grasped him with her good arm. "What is it?" she repeated, her own fear mounting in her throat.

Loki gestured wildly at the cylinder. "It's a Level-One communication device," he spat. "It sends encoded messages back to a host in Asgard. If you fail to send a message at the appropriate time, it sends back a red-alert that calls for the deployment of the army of Asgard! If I can't decode it in time, the damned thing will send for all the demons of Asgard to be loosed on Westeros, and you can bet that we will be in major trouble, Sansa. You will probably die and I'll be sent back to the dungeons with your head for company!"

Sansa pressed her nails into Loki's arm. "Can't you decode it?"

"Maybe...but I don't know how long I have until the message is due; it could be days, it could be weeks, it could be five minutes from now. Who knows? All of Asgard might be coming right as we speak!" Loki let a choked whimper emit from his throat, and Sansa was amazed to see him weeping. "I can't let that happen! I cannot lose you; I cannot go back to those dungeons! I can't, I can't, I can't!" He sank to the floor and pressed his face into his knees, screaming his fear and frustration. Sansa, despite her hesitation with Loki, knelt down next to him and pressed her good fingers into his shoulder.

She would have held him if she was able.

* * *

Ah, finally! This took a long time to write! I wanted it to be perfect for my readers :). I'll try to post the next chapter around Wednesday, but the play and Halloween are fast approaching, and my days and nights are filled. Keep reading, my followers!


	9. Decoding and The Dark World

_Hi everyone! I'd just like to explain the term "The Dark World" before we begin the chapter. The actual, canon description of it will probably be different when Thor: The Dark World comes out, so here is my definition: __**The Dark World is an umbrella term for a corner of the known universe. Asgardians don't like going there and Odin would think it impossible to go to war with any of the natives. It's a sort of gritty area that no one knows a lot about, and one of the major rulers there is Thanos. None of the Nine Realms is included in The Dark World, and no one is completely sure as to what worlds and races are all encompassed in The Dark World. Very few people have made it out alive from the area, and they are often mad from the horrible things they have seen. Therefore, in short, it's a feared area.**_

_ Yup, that's my description, because it's going to be mentioned in this chapter, so I don't want people thinking that it's a Dark Elf realm or a spiritually dark place or something. Anyway, here is the chapter!_

* * *

Decoding and The Dark World

Loki sat shaking in his personal solar. The sunlight outside had begun to melt into shadows and pools of darkness, but Loki could not sleep just yet, despite his extreme exhaustion. The table before him seemed to waver and fade. Pressing his fingers into his eyelids, Loki shook his head to clear the swirls of light dancing in his eyes. Nevertheless, he concentrated on the task before him: decoding the cylinder.

It had been nearly three hours since the Asgardian attack. Loki had managed to calm himself down while Sansa was led away to let a maester tend to her arm. She asleep in her rooms now with a dozen guards outside the door; Maester Frenken had given her milk of the poppy when he set her broken arm. Sansa would probably wake soon, however, and Loki would be glad of the company, even if she would be of little use. The decoding was complex and time-consuming. Loki knew that he could manage to interpret the symbols and decipher the writings, but he was working against an unknown time, and it was making him jittery.

Loki examined all the clues that he had managed to discover so far. There were two messages inside the cylinder, and Loki was using them as guides to find words. The table in front of him was scattered with scraps of paper, all covered in scribbled-out letters from Loki's guesses. So far, Loki had discovered the glyphs on the cylinder were based off some sort of bastard French; the Asgardians often used Earth languages for their codes, as they were the only race to periodically visit Earth. Using that lead, Loki had discovered ten letters in his work: _A, E, S, T, R, C, B, G, H._, and _I_. He had discovered a few words, like _are,_ _be_, _star_, and _rest_. Loki looked carefully at the encrypted message, and discovered a likely looking start: _RE-RT_. He could only conclude that this meant _report_. Loki checked his lead message and found that the glyphs for _O_ and _P_ from his partial word would match with other partial words missing _P_'s and _O_'s. Loki smiled with joy at his deductions and allowed himself to pause for a moment to stretch; he had discovered nearly half the letters, and now that he had all the vowels, it would be much easier to decipher the code.

The door to the solar opened, and a servant came in bearing a flagon of wine and a plate of food. Sansa followed close behind, her arm bound with stiff silken bandages. The servant set the refreshments on the table and left immediately. Loki managed a smile for Sansa. "How does your arm feel?" he asked.

Sansa swayed slightly as she stood next to the table. The milk of the poppy still seemed to be in her system. "It feels much better, thank you for asking." Her words were still formal, but she was talking to him again, so Loki felt this was a major improvement over the past week. "I had my maid bring you something to eat. How long have you been working on this?"

Loki poured himself a cup of wine; he was loath to use alcohol to stay awake, but he had to, or he would have fallen asleep at the table. "Since you left a few hours ago. I am halfway done, and I shall complete this within the hour. The, we can figure out what we need to do to keep the Asgardians away from our kingdom."

Sansa nodded. "I also just received word that a representative from the Iron Bank of Braavos is waiting to meet with you about some payments that the Iron Throne needs to address."

Loki thought for a moment. "I need to finish this, but could you meet with him and tell him that we will honor the payments as soon as we defeat House Lannister? I mean to drain their gold resources to cover the crown's debts."

"Yes." Sansa hesitated. "Should I add something about interest as well? We could give him some jewels to let him know that we will honor the contracts."

"Give the man a bag of rubies. We have a surplus, as I confiscated the jewels of all the traitors in the Red Keep."

Sansa blinked. "When did you do that?"

"Two days ago, but we weren't, ah, _talking_..." Loki paused to thoroughly drain his cup of wine while Sansa pretended to be interested in a pattern in the grain of the table. Loki coughed and sat his cup down. "Yes, well, rubies do not match our colors very well, and Cersei Lannister seemed to be made entirely of gold and rubies. Yes, give the Braavosi a bag of rubies as interest. You might as well do it now, as I do not want the man blustering about the Red Keep while I am trying to sleep later."

Sansa paused before she left. "Loki," she began, "what shall happen if the Asgardians descend upon us?"

Loki sighed. "I could either attempt to build up my magical stores in order to seal up the portals to this world, or we could flee across the stars. I would have to take you along, as you bear too much magical energy from me. The Asgardians would come after you first if I left."

"Well, I hope you can save us, my lord." Sansa hesitated briefly, but came and gave him the gentlest of kisses on the cheek. "I do not want to leave my world."

Loki held her good hand for a brief moment. "I do not want to force you to leave, either. I will hurry, and I will send for you as soon as I am finished with this."

Sansa left and Loki turned back towards his codes, his head swimming with drowsiness and worries.

Thor shifted nervously from side to side as he waited outside his father's audience chamber. The All-Father was not in a particularly good mood these days, and Thor had to be careful about how to approach him. Odin had already ignored requests from his son for nearly a week, instead hiding himself in his private study in order to study about the other realms. It was nearly unbearable for Thor to wait, but he willed himself to be patient.

* * *

Thor had never felt so ashamed of himself in all his life as he realized how he had been wrong about Loki's motives. It was difficult to imagine a more woeful man. Once he had realized the pain that Loki was going through, Thor had decided that he would make amends with his little brother, no matter what the cost; if it meant defying Odin's orders, he would do so.

The steward threw the audience room's doors wide open and beckoned to Thor. "The All-Father will see you now," he boomed.

Thor thanked the man and strode into the main Hall of Asgard. Odin sat in his throne, his golden spear _Gungir_ at his side. The All-Father beckoned to his eldest son. "What boon do you wish of me?" Odin was looking unusually pale, Thor noted. The energy required to send out the search parties had drained him, apparently, as his last Odinsleep had been interrupted by Loki. Perhaps he would go into the Odinsleep again; it would mean that he would leave the governance of the realm to Thor.

Thor knelt before his father. "Has there been any word of my missing brother?" He could only hope not.

Odin shook his head. "I am afraid not." There was a smile on his lips, however. "Rest assured, son of my blood, he has not visited Earth."

Thor took a moment to respond. It would require finesse to deal with Odin's harsh justice. "All-Father..." he began, "I believe that leniency would be fitting for my brother. He has suffered enough and has apparently caused harm to other worlds. I think we should..."

"_Enough_!" Odin smashed his spear against the dais. "Has your mother been filling your head with soft ideas? Loki will be dragged back home to await an eternity of punishment for his crimes!"  
"Father, no! Is it feminine to grant mercy? Loki was hurting, was doing everything to please you..."

Odin snorted. "Is that what Frigga told you? Everything Loki does it for himself. He has never had a selfless fiber in his body! He is probably hiding on some barren wasteland of a rock, trying to gather armies and magic to conquer us all!" He stood up from his throne and made a move to leave the throne room. "I will not hear any more whining from you today, Thor. I hope that the reports that are due today will have some message of where Loki is so you may give up your childish dreams..." Odin coughed and staggered, leaning against his throne for support. "I want to finally see that wayward some of mine punished for his mischief..." he coughed again and fell to one knee. Thor watched him begin to sink into the Odinsleep without pity. He strode to his father.

"Don't worry, Father," he whispered, as his father's eyelids began to sink with exhaustion. "I will bring Loki home, and he shall be pardoned of all crimes. He can sleep easy in his own bed, knowing that the decrees that I make cannot be undone by you." Thor pressed his father's eyelids down, even though Odin had not fallen asleep just yet. "You've been a ruler for far too long, I can see that now. You have cared more about the throne instead of loving and nurturing your children, whether they are of your own body or not. Do not despair, for I will fix this." Thor listened to his father's breathing as it fell into a rhythmic rumble. It pained Thor to be so cruel to his father, but Odin's own malice had shocked him to the core. Thor wanted nothing more than to have his little brother home, and Odin was standing in the way of that.

A runner suddenly appeared in the doorway. "All-Father! I-" he broke off as he saw Thor leaning over his father's slumbering form.

"The All-Father has fallen into the Odinsleep, but I am here to hear your words." Thor said.

The runner nodded. "Your Grace, I come with...horrendous news..." Thor noted the marked letter in his hands; it was stamped and sealed with the royal emblem of the Elite Guard. Thor gulped and moved to take the letter in his hands, his entire body trembling with terror at the thought of what could have happened to Loki...

* * *

Dawn broke over the Red Keep. The air was becoming more frigid as the days shortened and moved ever closer to winter, but today, the air held a promise of warmth and unseasonal sunshine. Loki noticed none of it, though. He held back a yawn that tickled his throat as he read over the last three lines of his message repeatedly. It had taken him most of the night to finish decoding the cylinder to find that he had four hours left to send the message. Loki had compiled an extensive log of notes, coordinates, and details in the style of the other messages, all in total spanning six pages. Loki blew on the cylinder to awaken it, his breath infused with magic.

The cylinder hummed to life, the delicate glyphs covering the page pulsing like a beating heart. Loki pressed his fingers into the codes one at a time, writing his message with as much finesse and articulation as he possibly could. The entire coding process took nearly fifteen minutes, and Loki huffed a sigh of relief as the message was sent.

Loki tried to stand, but his vision swam alarmingly and he sat down immediately. The table swam before his eyes, where it had been so clear before. The adrenaline rush propelling Loki to finish his task wore off as soon as his work was done, and he felt the pain and exhaustion coursing through his body tenfold. Loki could barely summon servants with his mind, but he managed to complete the order, sending for Sansa and Maester Frenken. Loki rested his head on the table in the meantime, the cool wood soothing his throbbing temples.

Sansa and Frenken arrived within a few minutes. The pair had developed a sort of student-teacher relationship after Frenken had shown Sansa how he had dealt with her arm. Sansa immediately crossed the room to Loki. "My lord, what is wrong?" she cried.

"I'm so exhausted, but fear not, the messages are sent. We are safe." Loki mumbled from the dark barrier of his arms.

Sansa helped Maester Frenken pull Loki into his bed. His forehead was speckled with drops of sweat, his skin was the color of curdled milk, and the bags under his eyes were the size of coins. He looked as if he had just emerged from Asgard's torture chambers. Sansa waited anxiously while Frenken examined Loki. The maester clucked disapprovingly. "Your Grace, you've been working much too hard. You have caught a fever and are tremendously exhausted. You should get a good day's rest. I'll fetch a bowl of water and some clean cloth to soothe your fever." He left while Sansa massaged Loki's temples.

"Sansa, you need to do something for me." Loki's cracked voice was urgent, and she listened attentively. "I need you to...take my spear to the cylinder. Once it's broken, have a bonfire built in the yard, have the smiths make it as hot as possible to destroy the pieces."

Sansa clutched his fingers. "Won't that alert the Asgardians to your presence?"

"No. On the contrary, it will confirm what I have sent in the message. Once the All-Father sends the other search units to the coordinates on the message, they will all die and their cylinders will be destroyed as well. Fear not, we will be safe."

Sansa nodded, and went to perform the task set before her. She paused at the door to Loki's chamber and looked back to say good-bye to her betrothed, but he was already asleep.

* * *

Thor had to sit down as he read the letter again. The All-Father was fast asleep in his chambers, but not all as well in Asgard. Frigga had gone to her rooms to mourn and Thor had shut himself away as well.

"The Dark World," Thor whispered, the very name of the place sending shivers down his spine. The Dark World was the most feared place in the universe, and if the search party's message was to be believed, the soldiers had tracked Loki to the fringes of the Dark World. There had been no more word from the soldiers, although they believed that Loki had been seized and was being held captive.

Another runner came rushing into the room. "Your Grace, the First Elite Squadron's communication device has just been reported to be destroyed!" Thor sat up, fear clutching his heart. The only way to destroy an elite communication device was to smash it with a powerful magical item, then burn it at the hottest temperatures possible. Only a few races knew the technique...and most certainly, those in the Dark World knew the way...

"I want all the search parties to convene on the coordinates sent in this letter! Tell them to bring my brother home unharmed and to negotiate for his release if he has been captured! If these beings will not cooperate, they have my permission to use deadly force."

The runner bowed and departed immediately. Thor pulled his fingers through his air, fighting back the urge to scream. If the most elite guard of Asgard could not bring Loki back from the Dark World, he was as good as dead.

* * *

Sansa came back to Loki's rooms bearing a bowl of cool water and several soft cloths. She set the bowl next to Loki's bed and began wetting strips of cloth. Bathing Loki's flushed face, she touched his cheek. It was still burning hot. Sansa didn't fear for her betrothed's life, but she still was worried about his health.

Sansa placed three cloths against Loki's neck and throat, feeling his pulse throb against her fingertips for several seconds. She flushed and moved away from him, turning towards the bowl. Loki coughed and moaned in his sleep. Sansa filled a cup full of the cold water and pressed it to Loki's lips. He swallowed and lapsed back into sleep. _I should not leave him; he might need something from me._ Sansa moved away from the bed and turned to the table. She noticed a thick tome covered with wondrous. The cover of the book showed a beautiful maiden being catered to by a servant. The maiden was in front of a decorated blue silk tourney pavilion and was being attended by many fanciful beasts. Sansa had to smile at the fierce lion and gentle unicorn holding the pavilion's flaps. The book was entitled _Art throughout the Ages: European Edition_. Loki had marked several pages of the book, and Sansa turned it open to find a small translation of several letters in a language called "French". Sansa glanced over to Loki, but he was fast asleep. Sansa settled into one of the armchairs in the room and opened the book to the beginning, settling in for a pleasant day of reading.

* * *

"Damn! Well, there goes my boot!" The soldier cursed again as he knelt to remove the offending shoe.

"Don't take it off, Rast; you might not get some new shoes for a while." The forest that the Elite Guard had congregated in had just experienced some sort of rain, except the rain was somewhat acidic and wore their shoes away as they walked. The Captain of the Guard sighed. They had been searching for over an hour, but they had uncovered nothing. Loki definitely wasn't here. They had followed the coordinates exactly, but the world they had entered was seemingly barren of all breathing life. However, the plants in this world were exotic and stringy, the water was undrinkable, and the air seemed to hum with pure malice. They needed to leave immediately. The Captain signaled to his lieutenant. "I think we were led astray. Get one of the cylinders; we need to let the King know that we found nothing."

_ "Quis ibi?" _

The Captain turned around. "Who said that?" The guards shrugged.

_"Quis ibi?"_

The air seemed to hum a little more forcefully. A fork of green lightning split the sky even though no clouds were present. "Weapons out, now!" The Captain and his men drew their swords, their eyes darting everywhere but at the sky.

_"Quis ibi? Infelix fidit me? Ego esurio, mollis bestiae carnibus! Fatiscebant, famem!"_

The soldiers of Asgard missed the winged beasts descending on them from above while their master strode forward and began to pull the cylinders from the bodies already stripped of flesh.

* * *

Aaand, end chapter! This story won't go into the Dark World much more, I promise; there may be a mention or two again, but that's it. I just wanted to show how vicious the place was. Those winged beasts? They're basically hunting hawks for the bigger monsters.

"_Quis ibi? Infelix fidit me? Ego esurio, mollis bestiae carnibus! Fatiscebant, famem!" _Is Latin for _"Who's there? Who dares to cower from me? I am hungry, beasts of soft flesh! Stave my hunger!_" I just wanted to use Latin because it sounds freaky :)

There is a book called _Art Throughout the Ages,_ I believe, but I twisted it around significantly in order to use it for Sansa's reading. I just wanted to find a time for Sansa to look around and explore a little bit of worlds unknown to her, and the picture on the cover is _The Lady and the Unicorn: Desire._

If any of you people are amateur cryptologists, please excuse my translation abilities; I know nothing about translating and decoding, so this is a newbie's attempt at explanation.

Also...I got a reader from Brunei Darussalam, and I've never heard of that country...so if you're still here, dear foreign reader, Greetings from America!

Until next week, my followers!


	10. Art, Testing Powers, and Melting Walls

Chapter 10: Art, Testing Powers, and Melting Walls

* * *

Sansa shut the book immediately when she heard Loki mumble in his sleep. Loki turned over, murmuring softly. Sansa swore that she could hear him whisper her name. It made her feel a little proud. Loki settled back into his deep slumber. Sansa tore herself away from her tome and spent a few minutes changing the soothing cloths on his forehead. Maester Frenken had visited an hour ago, and had insisted that Loki's fever was going down. He always recovered from such maladies in a timely fashion, and would probably be over this affliction by tomorrow. Until that time, Loki needed sleep and peace, and Sansa was happy to let him rest, if it meant that she could spend a few more hours with the art book. She was devouring the book, but she felt embarrassed to think that anyone would catch her with it open to one of the more explicit paintings, like _Cupid Complaining to Venus_, although that wasn't nearly the worst of the pieces. The Roman and Greek art was absolutely horrifying and graphic, but thankfully, the book made only a few references, instead urging the reader to pursue another edition that had the Mediterranean works as its focus. This book focused on four periods called "Ancient and Medieval", "Renaissance", "Baroque and Rococo", and "Revolution", and Sansa was enthralled. She was entranced with all of it; the portraits of kings and noble ladies, the broad brushstrokes and smoky battles; she was even amazed by the pictures of the winged humans and the man on the cross. Sansa didn't know what half of the symbols meant, or all the identities of the nobles, but it didn't matter. She did not need to know who King Charles I was or why some of the people had big golden halos around their heads to enjoy the art. Sansa's favorite pieces were all carefully marked in the book: _The Water Lily Pond_, _At The Theatre_, _Ophelia_, _The Arnolfini Portrait_, and of course, _The Lady and the Unicorn _tapestries. Sansa had spent a good six hours carefully studying each painting, trying to find the hidden messages and symbolisms that the author talked about. She had thoroughly examined almost all of the paintings in the book, except for the ones by Picasso; those were terrifying, with their twisted faces and blocky backgrounds. Sansa preferred the more realistic paintings, especially if you could see the original brushstrokes.

Sansa set the book down again as her maid entered the room. "Milady, the captain of the guards wishes to speak to you in your solar," Talla curtsied and waited for her lady to reply.

Sansa frowned. "Tell the captain that I shall meet with him in a moment." Talla curtsied again and left.

Putting the book down was again a trying task, but Sansa managed it. Loki had appointed dozens of his mind-controlled slaves to various tasks throughout the city, like commanding the City Watch, guarding the Red Keep, working the kitchens, spying on the prisoners, and running the dungeons and servants. If one of the thralls was coming to Sansa with news, it must be important. Sansa brushed out her hair. She did not feel like dressing to impress; the thralls would simper and compliment her whether she was wearing silks or roughspun.

Going into the main solar, Sansa was surprised to see how nervous Captain Cole appeared to be; he was normally a very calm man, even before Loki's enchantment. Loki had picked him to be a captain of the household guard for that very ability to keep calm under pressure. Cole went down one knee when Sansa entered the room. Sansa motioned for him to stand and he began to speak. "My men have caught several dozen men attempting to free Lord Stannis and Tyrion Lannister. They snuck into the city dressed as farmers and went up to the Red Keep to sell their goods to the cooks. Then, they killed ten guards, two cooks, and a pot boy before making their way to the dungeons, but my men and King Loki's wards managed to stop them. They are all waiting in the black cells."

_Seven hells_. It seemed that Stannis's loyal men were getting desperate to free their fallen commander. "What lords do these men serve? Are they loyal to Storm's End, Dragonstone, or the Reach?"

"They are a mixture of all three, along with some westermen. According to some of the men, Stannis and Tywin mean to hold a temporary truce to free the land of King Loki's rule. Tywin has gotten word of Joffrey and Tommen's deaths, and Stannis's loyal men are angry over the slaughter that took place in the city."

Sansa's mind whirled. _This was not part of the plan._ Loki had been counting on getting Stannis to bend his knee to the new ruler in exchange for Storm's End; she had no idea as to what Loki meant to do with Tywin. But what was to be done with these men? "Are they commoners, or knights?"

Captain Cole shrugged. "From what we know, my lady, they are common men-at-arms. They were better suited to mingling with the citizens of King's Landing, but they were trained in how to perform a prison break."

"Tell these men...and the commoners who witnessed this event...that these traitors will be sent to the Night's Watch for allying themselves with the enemy, and if they will repent for the sin of killing our loyal servants, they shall not lose any fingers. Do not tell them this, but encourage them to repent. If they don't, they shall lose one little finger." It seemed a wise enough measure; the men would be spared and the people would be reminded of their ruler's mercy, but the men would still have some punishment. It made Sansa a little sad to order mutilation, but she couldn't have too much mercy, it would be said that she was afraid to dole out justice. She wondered if Loki would approve of her decision.

Captain Cole bowed. "My lady is as merciful as she is beautiful." He bowed again and left to carry out the justice.

Sansa ignored the empty compliment and hurried back to Loki's room. He was still fast asleep. Sansa breathed a sigh of relief and noticed that the candles needed changing in the room. The sun was already setting in the sky, brought on by the shorter days of autumn. Sansa rang for Talla again. "Have the candles changed while I go change into something appropriate for sleep." Sansa rang for another servant to help her change in her own apartments; her broken arm made it extremely difficult to undress without help. Sansa paused before she left to change: should she leave Loki alone tonight, or should she stay? Sansa decided to have a mattress with blankets brought up so she could sleep on the floor and attend to her betrothed's needs. The servants stared at her wide-eyed when she made the order, and she could almost hear them whispering about the King's lady sleeping unchaperoned in his rooms for the night. Sansa sighed and made herself pick a stuffy, demure linen sleeping shift with a thick blue bedrobe in order to help defuse the rumors. She doubted that Loki would wake up for more than a few minutes tonight, but that would not stop people from gossiping.

Coming back to Loki's apartments, Sansa was happy to see a modest supper laid out, with a covered bowl of warm broth should Loki wake up, along with a jug of water. Sansa checked on Loki again, but he seemed to still be asleep, so Sansa set the bowl of broth near the fire and went back to her book.

A new thought intrigued her. It wouldn't be _too_ hard to paint, would it? Sansa was very good at other artistic things, like singing and playing the high harp and needlework, so it shouldn't be too difficult to try painting, now would it? There were no paints at hand, and Sansa did not think the servants could make up a batch before the night's end, so she settled on making a drawing. It was easy to send for a stick of charcoal and some thick, large parchment sheets, and Sansa set herself to drawing.

She spread a sheet of parchment out on the table and thought about what to sketch. It would be folly to try something very difficult, so she settled on a simple drawing of a castle. The ground was easy enough to sketch, and for the next half hour, Sansa worked carefully on the turrets, towers, and gates. She even went on to sketch some fine details like windows and stonework. Finally, she held up her finished project.

Sansa's heart sank. The paper had shifted somehow under her fingers, so the entire building seemed to lean to the left. The turrets and towers were misshapen and the windows weren't the same size. A child could have done better. Sansa heaved a sigh of anger, balled up the paper, and threw it into the fire. She was snapping the charcoal pencil into powder when she heard a soft voice from across the room. "What are you doing?"

Sansa jumped and turned around. Loki was weakly propping himself against the pillows. The bags under his eyes looked much better, but he still looked sickly, his face speckled with sweat. Sansa hastily wiped her smudged hands on a linen towel went over to Loki. "Don't strain yourself." She helped Loki settle against his pillows and set about cleaning the sweat off his face and neck. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough. I am curious: what were you doing over there?"

Sansa felt the blush creep all the way up into the roots of her hair. "I was...I was...trying to draw...but I'm not very good at it..."

Loki's eyes wandered over to the thick _Art Throughout the Ages_ tome. "Have you been reading that?"

"I...yes. It was so wonderful." Sansa suddenly felt ashamed. "I'm sorry I went through it, Loki. But...it was so beautiful. All of it was beautiful."

Loki laid a hand on Sansa's shoulder. "Don't be sorry. I'm happy that you like Midgard art. I have some personal favorites in that book as well. I've seen a great deal of it in person as well."

"You've seen it in person? When? I was under the impression that you were not fond of Midgard." Sansa had never known that Loki had visited Midgard for pleasure.

Loki made to reach for a cup of water, but Sansa brought it to him. He smiled at her, drank a few swallows, and spoke. "The Midgardian people of today are tremendously annoying and uncaring. They prefer to abandon their arts and higher learning for hollow pleasures like television and computers." Sansa did not even bother to ask what those things were as Loki continued. "Most of the more developed countries have such cheap pleasures available to them on command. They prefer to eat disgusting, processed food instead of more fine meals; they would abandon their Jane Eyre's and Charles Dickinson's for bland, bad-written books. No, I hate the Midgard of today; I had to leave after half an hour the last time I visited, I was so annoyed. I love the Midgardian high cultures, like their art and their music and their literature. You do not live a thousand years and never bother to go exploring the other realms, and Midgard was diverse enough to capture my attention for centuries. I am still very pleased that you share a love of art, Sansa. You have fine taste."

Hope began to rise in Sansa's chest. "Can you paint or draw?" She asked in the hopes that he could teach her.

A bubble of laughter burst out of Loki. "Absolutely not! I tried and failed several times, so I'm committed to studying and admiring the paintings while better men make them for me." He noted her disappointment. "What paintings do you like?"

Sansa brought the book over to Loki and flipped through her favorite works. "I love _The Lady and the Unicorn _tapestries; they remind me of something that we would make in this realm. _The Water Lily Pond _and _At The Theatre_ are wonderful because you can still see the brushstrokes; it makes it seem as if they were painted yesterday. _The Arnolfini Portrait_ just looks so silly, with their strange fashions and that miniature little dog. What sort of dog is that? It's so small and fluffy. I've never seen a dog like it before. Oh, and _Ophelia_, that one is so haunting, and all of the flowers have some sort of symbolism; it's complex without even trying."

Loki nodded approval at each of her choices. "Do you like any of the more modern art, like Picasso?"

Sansa grimaced. "They are the worst; they just seem distorted, like something from a horrible nightmare."

"I like the more realistic paintings too, but some people prefer Picasso. Isn't it fascinating how art can be so diverse?" A wicked smile suddenly appeared on Loki's face. "What are your opinions on Greek and Roman art?" Loki laughed and laughed as Sansa blushed a deep pomegranate red and tried to stammer out some sort of answer. "Never you mind, darling. That art's rather for people with more...erotic tastes."

Loki patted the space next to him in the bed. "The night grows dark, and you must be tired. Come lay with me and we will keep talking until we fall asleep. We haven't talked like this in ages."

Sansa hesitated. "The servants...what if they walk in?"

Loki shrugged. "Let them talk. I'm not going to try anything with you, I swear it."

Sansa gave in, blew out the candles on the table, and came to bed. She curled up against Loki underneath the covers, resting her broken arm against his chest. He curled one arm around her waist, and Sansa couldn't stop blushing. "Why are you still blushing, Sansa? I swear, you look like you were out riding all day and you came back sunburnt."

"I...I still feel a little embarrassed about sharing a bed with a man that I am not married to."

"It hardly matters. I'm not going to try anything, and we will be wed in a little over a year, so it's not like we are strangers."

Sansa frowned. "Why are we waiting until I am fourteen?"

Loki paused before he answered. Sansa could see his eyes in the flickering light of the fireplace, and he looked sad."I'm worried for you. Make yourself comfortable, for I have a story to tell. Thousands of Midgardian years ago, before I was born, the Greek and Roman civilizations were one of the mightiest powers in the world. They worshipped many different gods and had complex ceremonies and worships for their deities. Around this time, the current ruler of Asgard was a weak man named Bor, who was the father of Odin. Bor did not regulate or control who went to Midgard and the Nine Realms took advantage of his weakness. Asgardians and other species alike discovered that Greek and Roman women would mate with them, as they thought they were gods. The women would assume these more powerful beings were certain gods or spirits, and would gladly give their bodies to them in exchange for bearing godly children. These demigods would rise to do great deeds, and the Greek and Roman legends ring to the names of Perseus and Hercules. Other children would be born as well, from more...unhuman creatures, and demigod children would fight each other in the name of their supposed parents. You might have seen a painting of Theseus fighting the Minotaur; both were born of parents from the Nine Realms. Eventually, these demigods would cause enough havoc in the world to the point where Odin stepped up and began regulating who could visit Midgard in order to protect the weakling humans. The legends of demigods and monsters would eventually fade away until they were only regarded as myths by the humans."

Sansa was very confused. "So...you're afraid that I will bear a...monstrous child?"

"No. I'm afraid that you might die in childbirth. You see, when a god and a mortal mate, their children have half the strength of their godly parent. You have seen the power an Asgardian has, and you know how powerful a demigod would be. An infant in his mother's womb does not know how to regulate his strength, and oftentimes, the otherworldly offspring would kill the mother before his birth or during birth. Only about one in five of these demigod children survived to childbirth, and very few mothers survived. History does not discuss these women; they only honor women who were strong enough to bear the child and survive, and history does not remember women who died with bastards in their bellies. I'm afraid for you, Sansa. I mean to give you potions and spells to help make any childbearing easier, but your body needs to be ready for motherhood, and right now, you've barely begun to become a woman. You flowered, when...a month ago? I simply want you to be more developed and closer to adulthood before we even attempt children."

Sansa was silent for a long moment. Suddenly, motherhood did not seem a good prospect. "Will I be safe?" She whispered.

Loki pulled her close and kissed her head. "I will not do anything to harm you, my sweet. We'll need to be married in a year to keep some alliances going, but until I've found the right spells and potions, I think you will need to drink something like moon tea." He pulled her even closer and rested her against his chest. Sansa listened to his heartbeat. "I love you, Sansa, and I don't want to lose you."

Sansa leaned up and kissed him gently. It was their first proper kiss in a long time. It lasted for only a few seconds, but she felt a great weight lifted off her chest. "I love you, too," she whispered. "Can we talk about something more pleasant?"

"Of course." The fire was beginning to die down, and Sansa was resting her head on Loki's chest, but she guessed that he was smiling. "I think I need to fill you in tomorrow about our current situation. The Dornishmen will come after the war to meet me, and they will bring me Myrcella. Prince Doran does not want to wed a bastard born of incest to his son. Oberyn Martell is coming in Doran's place, and we shall give him Tywin and Clegane's heads."

"What do you plan to do with Myrcella?"

"I plan to make her Tyrion Lannister's heir to Casterly Rock."

Sansa raised her head and gaped at Loki. "Why would you do that? The western lords would _never_ like who you appointed to Casterly Ro-oh..."

Loki smiled. "Exactly. Tyrion will be happier with me for giving him the castle his father's always denied him, and the lords will be angry with me for appointing him over his healthier, whole relatives. Tyrion can either figure out how to get the lords under control, or the west will be in a civil war. Either way, the westermen will be out of my hair for quite a while."

Sansa blinked. "That's very clever."

"Yes. Also, I plan to join you for a time in Riverrun; your brother and I should draw up some sort of alliance in person. You can visit your mother while that happens."

"You need to make a sigil, Loki, for when we ride to Riverrun. Have you given any thought to what you might want?"

For a moment, Loki was speechless. "I...I haven't even thought about that."

"Could I help with it? I know much more about sigils than you do."

"Of course, I'll appreciate the help. I don't even know where to begin." Loki smiled. "And speaking of art...does this world have a custom of the bride and groom giving gifts to each other?"

Sansa choked down a squeal of excitement. "Yes! Yes, we do! Are you saying that...?"

"I'll get you some paintings? Absolutely."

Sansa couldn't control her excitement and let out a little shriek of happiness. "Oh, thank you!" She paused in her excitement. "But...is it right to take those paintings from Midgard?"

Loki snorted. "Very few people still appreciate them, and I think their beauty would be better spent making you smile. In any case, the theft might stir interest in the art community, and it's not like there are thousands of copies still available for people to look at."

Sansa squeezed Loki and trembled against him. "Oh thank you, this is the best gift that I've _ever _received!"

Loki yawned and settled down against the pillows with Sansa cuddled up next to him. "Consider it a token of my love, my dear. Now, let's get some sleep; we will need to be well-rested and ready for tomorrow."

The pair fell asleep, their barriers of distrust and unhappiness finally beginning to melt away.

* * *

Argh, sorry about the wait, dear readers. Last week was the play, and this week was a lot of college-visiting business. I'll **TRY**to get another chapter posted this week, but no promises. Black Friday and Thanksgiving are this week, and my menial gas-money job has tons of deals to keep people very busy. For non-Americans, the spirit of Thanksgiving has been replaced by a deep-seated commercialism and greed. Instead of spending the holiday with family members, people prefer to go out shopping, and the poor workers have to get up at 3:00 a.m. to put up with rudeness and exhaustion in order to cater to the customer's demands. I'm one of those poor workers. So..I'll try, but no promises.

However, I haven't been idle; I'm going to create a sigil and motto for Loki's house! I've already got it mostly done, and it's going to be kick-ass, I promise! My friend the Creative Consultant has helped me, and we're nearly done. My friend, who I will call SexyCat, is going to draw the sigil per our instructions and I will scan the sigil and put as my profile picture! I won't spoil too much, but the sigil will be black-and-green, and will NOT feature snakes. It's going to incorporate lots of Loki's background, and since you people are so patient and loyal, you will get the motto right now!

The motto of Loki's new house is: _Power from the Stars_. Loki wanted to show off his godly powers and heritage with his motto.

I posted this chapter as sort of a filler/exposition thing to help with Loki and Sansa's character development, so the next chapter will help move the plot along further. I realize that the last few chapters have been depressing, so I wanted to lighten the mood with a little happiness and reconciliation. Loki and Sansa still aren't at their highest in their relationship, but their barriers and mistrust are beginning to be worn down.

Also...shoutout to Gloriana the Younger! She suggested that I get a little lewd with the art, as Sansa _really_ shouldn't be seeing some of that stuff (what was up with the Medieval people's fascination with butts? Seriously! _The Toilet of Venus_, anyone?) Anyway, I was flipping through my art book to find paintings to discuss, and I was like "They're all naked! :(" And I read Gloriana's post and I was like "Gonna get explicit! :D" Anyway, thanks for your dirty mind, Gloriana!

Until Next time, folks!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Blood and Sunlight

* * *

It was folly to invest in magic, but Thor had no other options. He longed to find and rescue his brother, but he didn't know where he was. The entire Elite Squadron was dead, their cylinders smashed to bits, and their prince was still missing. Thor felt immense guilt trapping him in an endless cycle of grief, and his mother was no different. Frigga refused to leave her rooms as she was too steeped in mourning to face her people. The commoners themselves knew very little of what was going on; they only knew that Loki was missing, Frigga was inconsolable, and the All-Father had fallen into the Odinsleep. Thor remained ruler while his father slept, and Thor didn't relish facing Odin after that little whispered promise. All Thor could do was race against time and pray that he found his brother before Odin woke up and resumed regency.

The streets of Asgard were as dark as they could get, considering how bright the stars shone at night. Thor made his way across the sleeping streets, clad in the roughspun of a commoner. He nervously fiddled with a little pouch of precious gems. The gems had weak spells surrounding them, but gems with beginning enchantments were better than untouched jewels. Ever since Loki had disappeared, Odin had confiscated all the magical items he could find, in case Loki would try to return to steal them. Loki had escaped with a few of the most potent items, which only seemed to confirm Odin's suspicions. Thor had visited the treasure vault earlier that night and had taken some gems for one purpose only: a trade. Ever since Odin's raid on magic, a flourishing black market trade had opened in the unsavory dregs of Asgard. It was rumored that you could find anything in the market, from dragon blood to Dark Elf scrolls. Thor was going to the market to trade for anything that would be useful in finding his brother. The gems he carried were certainly valuable; they had the beginnings of powerful enchantments, enchantments that needed complex magic, and that magic was even harder to obtain now that Odin's ban was in order. The gems would certainly fetch a nice price on the market.

Thor finally made his way into the market. The place was set up under an old, abandoned granary that had not been used in years. There were dozens of stalls peddling cheap trinkets infused with simple spells that even the weakest of magical apprentices could produce. Many people wandered around these stalls, trying to find fertility potions or cures for ailments. Thor brushed past these people, and the people didn't recognize their king. It was for the better, or someone would be tempted to sell the secret of his visit for a little gold and some high noble's favor. Thor ignored the peddler's stalls and made his way to the back of the market where the masters dwelled. Their wares were hidden by black-and-gold tents that were decorated with magical runes. Arcane signs in glowing ink identified the wares sold by each tent: poisons, weapons, clothing, and even some rare species. Bodyguards scowled from every entrance, only allowing customers with something to sell. Thor found a tent specializing in teleportation magic and flashed his bag of gems to the guard. The guard grunted and opened the flap of the tent, allowing Thor inside.

Thor made his way to the back of the tent where the master was seated. The air hummed with enchantments and spells, and every breath Thor took seemed to be clotted with energy. Herbs hung from the ceiling and chests of scrolls were stacked in a corner. Thor sat down at the table where the master sat. She was a young woman, for a spellcaster, with only a few streaks of grey marring her brown tresses. Her hands were wrinkled and blackened from dealing in poisonous herbs, and her body seemed stick-thin under her cloak. Otherwise, she had a pretty face. She beckoned to Thor. "Does my customer have a name?"

Thor shook his head. "Names are dangerous. Let us skip the pleasantries and get down to business."

The mage nodded, her eyes hungry. "What have you brought me for trade?"

Thor shook out the bag of gems. The mage touched them all, nodding in approval. "These are very valuable, but I am afraid I deal with a less…desired form of magic. Teleportation spells aren't in high demand, and my supplies are extremely limited. I'm afraid that I cannot provide anything worth these treasures."

"Oh, but you can." Thor carefully placed each gem back into the bag. "If you can provide what I seek, you can have them all. I'm looking for a magical scrying object, something that will allow me to see across the stars on anything that I desire."

The mage smiled. "I have just the thing that you are looking for." She went to a chest in the corner and pulled out a basin. The basin was made of cream-colored, rough-hewn wood, and was very shallow. "This basin is made of a rare wood that my master found thousands of years ago. It came from a faraway world that you have never heard of nor will you ever see. It is unreachable and an unadvisable place to visit. My master chanced upon the planet, and found a place hidden in shadows where warlocks practiced their arts in the open. That place was called Asshai. My master bought the wood from a priest who insisted that it had come from a land where little elves born of the forest could communicate with trees, and the basin was made of the same wood. My master never returned to that shadow city, for the place was steeped in dark magic. Another empire was rising as well, an empire that was filled with dragonlore. It was folly to even attempt to conquer the place. Anyway, this basin is infused with the same powers of scrying. My master modified the enchantments, so you cannot scry through the trees, but you can view other worlds."

Thor was intrigued. "Why is this not worth more than a few paltry gems?"

"Because it is only good if you can search within about fifteen worlds of the wood's home origins; in terms of scrying, it is very limited. You cannot reasonably determine what world you are viewing. In addition, you must fill the basin with blood of someone young. It is a costly spell, and only fresh and healthy blood can fuel it."

"Does the person have to die to fill the basin?" Thor was extremely wary of blood magic, and he wasn't sure about killing a young innocent.

"No. It is only hard to find someone young enough to satisfy the spell, yet that is strong enough to survive. Hard for a commoner, but not a prince." The mage's eyes were sly.

Thor pulled out a dagger. It wasn't his hammer, but it was still deadly. "Did you say something?"

The mage coughed. "Of course not! A whisper on the breeze! No more than that, mysterious stranger! Now that I think of it, this item really isn't worth a full bag of gems; just two-thirds of the bag will do."

It was the only chance that Thor had. Even if he didn't find Loki in the basin, it still eliminated many places where he was hiding. Thor paid the woman a good portion of the gems and in return received the basin and a thick scroll with more accurate instructions. "They will guide your way." The mage whispered.

Thor left immediately, but not before folding back his cloak to reveal the dagger. "I know who you are. Do not speak of this meeting, or you will regret it." The mage bowed low as Thor left the area.

All he had to do was try the spell.

* * *

Loki's eyes opened to the weak autumn sunlight streaming into his bedroom. The fire had died down to embers, but they still heated the room. Sansa's warmth next to him helped as well; she rolled over and murmured unhappily, as the light hit her face. Loki yawned and stretched. It would be a beautiful day, and one of the last pleasant days of the year. Sansa twitched next to him. "Close the curtains," she groaned. Loki tested his magical reserves and managed to shut the curtains with a flick of a wrist. He grinned and knocked over a glass on the nearby table. It shattered with musical tinkling. _My powers are returning._ It felt good to be in control again. However, Loki's magic was far from perfect; it would be another day before he could summon the magic to heal Sansa's arm.

Loki crawled out of bed, a yawn trying to crawl its way out of his throat. He shook Sansa awake. "Are you going to lie abed all day? It's midmorning."

Sansa waved him away. "Leave me be!" Loki dragged her out of bed as she yelped in protest. Loki had to laugh at her indignant expression.

A servant was attracted to the room by the laughter and peeked in. "What does His Grace want for his breakfast?" The servant froze at the sight of Sansa encircled in Loki's arms, despite their full clothing. Loki snapped his fingers and the servant walked away, his eyes coated with the blue frost of mind control.

Sansa pulled away from Loki. "We ought to be more careful, or people will talk."

Loki shrugged. "I'll shut the servants up; they are the only people who see us. Why should they care? We aren't doing anything wrong..."

"I have a reputation, Loki. It's fine if a man has a woman with him, but if a woman has a man in her unsupervised company..."

Loki sighed. "It's an unfair standard, I assure you. If it makes you feel more comfortable, we'll conduct our meetings in more...appropriate attire. How does that sound?"

Sansa nodded assent and moved towards the table to have a drink of water. Loki rifled through his drawers to find something appropriate to wear. "What troubles are plaguing my kingdom today?"

Sansa stopped what she was doing. "Oh," she whispered. "Oh, I forgot. Stannis and Tywin...have an alliance now. Tywin sent a few dozen men to try to free Stannis from the dungeons, but we stopped them at a loss of several of our men. I sentenced those men to the Wall, and they had to lose a finger if they didn't repent for killing our men."

Loki held back the urge to groan. If Tywin and Stannis were allies, this would mean that Stannis would have to die as well. Loki was counting on convincing Stannis to back down and take the stormland lords into control, but apparently, that wasn't going to happen.

"Well, I'll need to question a few of these men, certainly..." Loki noted Sansa's discomfort at those words. "It won't like before, I promise! I'll only question a few to find the most information; most will go to the Wall, I swear it. Only the worst will be interrogated."

Sansa nodded, her eyes sad. "Don't...don't lose yourself to your fits again, _please_."

Loki went and held Sansa. It wouldn't do to upset her. He had to get the information he needed, but for all intent and purposes, most of the men the men wouldn't die. A few, however...but it wouldn't serve to make it as gruesome as before. "I promise that I'll keep it all under control."

Sansa returned the embrace and the pair stood together for a long moment. "I'll join you for lunch, how does that sound?" Sansa nodded again let a little smile creep onto her face. "Should I begin packing for Riverrun?"

Loki smiled. "Why not? We should leave within the week. I'll probably need to execute Stannis to keep his men under control, and we'll need to disperse Tywin and Stannis's armies, but otherwise, we don't have anything stopping us."

"How shall you disperse the armies?"

"A few rumors, some spies, a bit of poison, whatever it takes. We'll discuss it over lunch." Loki looked down at his bedclothes; the linen under tunic and woolen breeches would not serve for questioning in the dungeons. He pulled out some old, stained trousers and a wool top that was stained with blood. "I think I'll need to change..." Loki suddenly threw off his shirt, to Sansa's shock. She tripped over her feet as she fled the room, her face beet red. Loki chuckled softly; Sansa was beginning to mature, but she was _such_ a pious maid; it was hard not to mess with her sometimes. Loki changed into his interrogation outfit and went down to the dungeons, both dreading and looking forward to his work...

* * *

The hour grew late. Thor paced back and forth in his personal bedchamber. The enchanted basin was sitting on a pedestal in the middle of the room and Thor's favorite healer, Andra, was examining it carefully. If there was anyone that Thor trusted, it was Andra; she had overseen his birth and had been at the prince's side as a healer ever since. Andra had placed a small chest of potions, a basin, and several linen bandages on a nearby table. A small knife was gleaming in Thor's hand.

It was time to perform the spell. Thor had surveyed several servants for the past few days before settling on a young serving girl named Holly. Young Holly was a beautiful girl, fourteen and a maid for three months. Her budding body had become the target for many a grope and whispered comment at the table, until there were bets on who would claim her maidenhead. Thor had picked her simply because her presence in his bedchamber would raise no suspicions; the king could have as many women as he wished, and Holly was a pretty little thing worthy of a night's affections.

Thor had no such interest in the girl. She was young, healthy, and innocent, a perfect child for the spell. He would spill a little of her blood, Andra would heal her cut, and the child would get a pair of sapphire earrings or a bag of silver for her troubles. People would assume what they wanted and if anyone balked at the idea of marrying Holly for her supposed loss of virginity, she could always go to him for help.

A guard brought Holly to Thor's chambers, barred the door, and left the area. Thor would have no one eavesdropping on this magic. Holly was dressed in a silken sleeping shift and a golden bedrobe, her honey hair curled into soft ringlets that smelled of rosewater. No doubt some diligent servant had prepared her for her night with the king. She stood in the doorway of the solar, red-eyed and trembling with fear. Her shaking increased when Thor strode over to her. He kissed her on the forehead and led her to the bedchamber, where Andra and the basin awaited.

Holly drew back at the sight, confused. "I don't understand..."

"You are needed for a different purpose, child. Come over to the basin and hold your arm over it. Do not be afraid; you won't have any lasting harm inflicted on you." The maid was trained to follow orders, as all servants were, and despite her misgivings, she obeyed. Andra carefully took the knife from Thor and made a deep but small cut at the crook of her elbow. Holly gasped as her blood splashed into the basin, and Thor held her steady as it slowly filled. Once it was half-full with thick dark fluid, Andra pulled out bandages and potions and went to work on patching Holly's cut. The pair stood off to one side, Holly pale-white with fear and blood loss and Andra steady and sure of her skills. Thor pulled out one of Loki's leather gloves; it was a child's glove, made to fit the prince when he was but nine and learning to fight with swords. Loki had received a cut during his training and a small stain remained to tell the tale. The old blood of Loki and the blood of the innocent Holly would fuel the spell to find the missing prince.

Thor set the glove next to the basin and waited for Andra to be finished with her task. Once she was done, only a tiny scar remained to show what had happened tonight. Holly was woozy from blood loss and swayed gently from side to side. Thor gathered her in his arms and carried her to a reclining sofa in the solar, where food and drink awaited. He left Andra to tend to the girl while he performed the spell.

Thor closed the door and went over to the basin where the blood and glove awaited. He picked up the glove and swirled it in the blood, the old leather becoming soaked within seconds. Dropping the glove into the basin, Thor peered inside, hoping, waiting, _praying_ that he might a sign pointing to his brother's location.

The basin's thick red depths began to coalesce, shifting and bubbling until the depths revealed an image. Wherever Loki was, it was a dark and awful place. A wavering candle was a tiny beacon in the sea of blackness, and Loki was at the center of it. He peered over the edge of the candle into the eyes of an unconscious man. The man was fettered to the walls, his body stained by blood and grime, his face pockmarked and freshly cut. The knife that had done the deed was in Loki's hands. Thor was shocked by his brother's appearance: Loki appeared sickly, the dark circles under his eyes giving the only color to his pallid face. His clothes were dirty and stained with dried blood. Loki suddenly reached out, slapping the man, his palm smacking wetly against the prisoner's bloodstained cheek. The sound was muted and distorted somehow, as if Thor was watching this scene play out on the other side of a window.

_"Wake up!"_ Loki hissed. It did not sound like a Loki that Thor had ever heard. Loki's voice was hoarse with menace and pure evil, his eyes cruel and calculating.

The man stirred and groaned, his eyes flickering open. He cringed away from Loki, his voice filled with terror. "_No more, milord, please!"_

Loki placed the point of his dagger under the captive's chin, forcing his head high. _"I have heard tales from your fellows that you meant to break out the false king and his men. I have heard tales that you meant to poison your true king once your first task was completed. Is this true? You were the only man we found with poison on your person..."_

The man slumped backward, whimpering. Loki forced the dagger against his skin, releasing a thin stream of blood. The man jumped. _"It is true, milord, but we meant to only poison the queen; you were meant for the Lord of Light's flames..."_

Loki snarled, a deep, awful noise._ "Poison the girl and kill the king, is that it? My lady has a gentle heart and has ordered most of your men to go to the Wall, but I think she will not miss you..."_ Loki's blade flashed again and the prisoner slumped forward, the stream of blood now turned into a raging river against his broken skin.

Loki cleaned his knife against the man's shirt and twitched, his eyes tracing the gloom. He flipped around and peered into the darkness, dagger at hand. _"Who's there?" _Thor recoiled in horror when Loki turned his gaze to him. _"I can hear your pitiful heartbeat, Thor."_ Thor shook with shock: how could Loki know it was him? _"My powers have grown since we last met. Your weak and revealing magic betrays you; only a fool would use such a wild spell. I will warn you: do not attempt to contact me again! Your soldiers paid the price for trying to follow me into the Dark World, and you will join them in Hel if you do not leave me be. I have learned so much in my exile, and soon, whole worlds will bow to my power. If you value your life, you will forget that I exist. Attempt to find me, and Asgard will fall."_ Loki waved his hand in front of his face and suddenly, the basin crashed to the floor, cracked and leaking blood.

Thor leapt back, his face stained with Holly's blood. He coughed and spat, looking down at the sticky mess covering his floor. Thor was both heartbroken and confused over what had transpired. It seemed that his mother had been right when she said that Loki would hate them for what they had done.

Thor sat down on the edge of his bed, looking at his bloodstained hands, trying to make sense of the situation. Loki appeared to be in some sort of powerful position, but he seemed angry and insane...and what was that talk of a queen? Thor decided to ask his mother what to do about this. He brushed past Andra and Holly in the solar without a word to either of them and made his way to his mother's chambers.

Thor knocked gently on his mother's door. A soft voice full of pain answered him. "What do you want?"

"Mother, it's me, Thor. I've come to you with news of Loki."

Frigga hesitantly unlocked her door and ushered her eldest son in. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were clouded with red from crying. Countless meals had piled up on her table, all untouched and spoiling. Thor sat his mother down and explained the whole situation to her: the magical black market, the basin, the ritual, and what he had seen in the blood. The Queen of Asgard sat still while the tale unfolded before her.

"Mother, what should I do? I have a general idea of where Loki is, if I wormed the location of that world out of that mage, and I could find Loki and bring him home..."

Frigga shuddered and sighed. "As much as it pains me to say this...we can't force him home."

"What! I thought you wanted to bring him back!"

"I do, but..." Frigga closed her eyes, pain flavoring her next words. "If Loki is so vehement against our interference, how can we force him to come back? It will only cause him to resent us more, I think. Loki needs some time to heal and think things over...if he wants to come back, we can welcome him warmly. If he decides to cause destruction, can he blame us for stopping him?"

Thor nodded. His mother's words made sense. "If he causes chaos across the Nine Realms, I shall fetch him home, but we won't punish him."

Frigga smiled at that statement. "I'm glad to see that you are growing, Thor. Perhaps this will straighten itself out in time...Leave me for awhile, my son. I ought to be ashamed of myself for acting like this!" She let out a choked sob and tried to smile, but Thor recognized her distress and held her while she cried her grief. "When did it turn to this? When did you and Loki stop being brothers and turn into enemies?"

Thor had no answer. "I don't know, Mother, but I shall end it."

Frigga wiped her eyes and sighed. "I suppose that's all I can hope for. Try and monitor the situation, if you can. Have Heimdall alert us at the moment that Loki leaves the Dark World and goes somewhere else." She pulled away and stood up, trying desperately to hold onto her queenly composure. "I'm going to take a bath. You have a kingdom to rule. Life must go on."

Thor stood up and prepared to depart. "Oh, Mother, what do you make of Loki talking of a queen? Do you think that he has found a woman?"

Frigga heaved a sigh. "Let's hope so. Maybe he needs a woman to knock some sense into him, now that he's cut off from his mother."

"He was saying how she had a gentle heart. He acted as if he cared for her deeply."

"Good. If he marries her, I want some grandchildren." Thor roared with laughter as Frigga scowled. "I've had the same silly little boys running about my household for the past thousand years! I want a granddaughter! Is that too much to ask?" Frigga pushed her laughing son out of the door.

* * *

EURHRUERGGH I'm sorry this is two days late! I hate Black Friday I hate Black Friday I hate Black Friday...anyway, that's the chapter! This is the last appearance of Thor for now, but he will be returning as a major character in my sequel. If I could have three names in my character list for the story, he would be one of them. Thor and Loki will have a pretty intense reunion, I can assure you.

Loki and Sansa are making baby steps, I can assure you. Loki is trying to keep his temper and anger under control, but he still snaps when he hears about Sansa (as with the poisoner), and Sansa will learn how to be a proper queen, with all of the justice and ruthlessness. Don't despair, however; they will stay true to themselves in the end.

Otherwise, this story is coming to a close very soon. It'll be finished before Christmas and I'll get the sequel up and running sometime after New Year's but before February. Stick around for the epilogue of _Westeros Lost_, because it's going to feature the return an Earth character! I won't tell who it is, though...plus, there'll be a teaser for my yet-unnamed-sequel.

Also, excuse any grammatical errors; I'm posting this super-late and I have little time for editing.

Until Sunday! (hopefully)

One more thing: Open discussion time in the reviews! Want to tell me a little bit about yourselves? I'm curious to see what sort of people are reading my stories! Don't go into detail like cities or countries or personal stuff: just post a little goofballery!

Like this: I've got a passion for strawberries, I have a dachshund who might be either very stupid or very clever, and my guilty pleasure sci-fi is _Hellboy_. Seriously, everyone knows about_ Doctor_ _Who, Star Trek,_ _Game of Thrones_, and _Marvel_ comics, but do you hear anything about _Hellboy_? Nooo! Those movies are amazing! Abe Sapien is my favourite from the series, and I was in stitches in the drunken scene in _The Golden Army_. I eagerly await the third installment in the series, and I hope I raised awareness for one of the most creative sci-fi franchises _ever_.

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Oops, I forgot section breaks: sorry about the re-upload, everyone!


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